


From the Fire she was Re-born

by yveskleinblue



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-03-30 00:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 64,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yveskleinblue/pseuds/yveskleinblue
Summary: So I hated Season 8 and wanted to write something to ease my mind. This is post episode 6 and Daenerys is brought to Kinvara, who then brings her back to life.Dany then decides that she has to deal with her past before she can turn towards the future. But when she goes back to Westeros, her plans change.





	1. The Mother of Dragons

  **Daenerys**

The red priestess was not surprised when the great black dragon gently laid his mother, Queen Daenerys to her feet on a warm night in Volantis. She has been waiting for him, having seen him fly to Essos in the flames. R’hllor had guided him to her, to help bring the Mother of Dragons back to life. They were standing atop of a grand building; torches lit all around. Two of her followers approached he tiny woman, all dressed in black, carefully while the great dragon still loomed above her, growling slightly.  
“Don’t worry Drogon. Your mother is safe with us.” Kinvara looked deep into the flaming eyes of Drogon. The dragon hesitated but stopped growling, nonetheless. The two women picked up her lifeless body and carried her to the table made out wood. She turned to Daenerys and looked at her with sorrow.  
“I am truly sorry for what they have done to you. They did not deserve your help, Mother of Dragons. Your fire will once again be lit and with that, your unborn babe shall be re-born again.” She heard Drogon growl behind her and she knew that he was aware that she was telling the truth.  
Calmly, she cut a lock of the silver hair and distributed it into the silver bowls scattered around Daenerys’ body on the big table while muttering words in a foreign language. When she went around the table to the other side, she had distributed all of the hair evenly. She was now looking straight at Drogon, who got closer, Daenerys on the table right between them.  
“Daenerys Stormborn, you will be reborn the very same way you came to be the Mother of Dragons, you will be purified by the fire to rebuild the world and free us from those who would destroy us.” she turned around and walked away from the table, to a safe distance.  
“Dracarys!” it almost sounded like a cheer, so full of power that it made Drogon shriek just before he bathed his mothers in flames.

It had been six days since Daenerys had opened her eyes again. It had been more than difficult, living with the knowledge that the man she loved, Jon Snow, had plunged his dagger into her heart while in an embrace. She had believed him when he had told her that she was his Queen, now and forever. And it had all been a lie. Bitterness and sorrow were the emotions she carried with her ever since being re-born. She knew what she had done had been wrong, but she had thought it right at the time. The Loss of almost everything she had ever held dear, having saved the people and not gotten any respect or thankfulness in return, being betrayed by her Hand and Lord of Whisperers only because there was a man with a better claim, it had all left her with nothing but grief and anger. Her goal, to crush the wheel, could only be achieved by love or fear and she did not have love in Westeros. So she knew, she had to be feared to insure that the future generation would never live under the wheel, even if it did mean killing innocent people.  
But all of that did not matter now. The past was the past. And now she was back in Essos, where the people respected and loved her.  
Once she woke, Kinvara had informed her that Grey Worm and the Unsullied were on their way to Volantis to once again follow their Queen. She also told her that Bran Stark was now King of the Six Kingdoms, with Sansa Stark as Queen in the North. Jon Snow had been cast to the North once again for killing her and she was believed dead.  
“It is good, my Queen, that they believe you are dead until you are of a healthy mind. You have to recover first.” Kinvara had told her on the third day when Daenerys started talking about flying to Westeros to seek revenge.  
And Dany knew she was right. She had also told her that she was pregnant with Jon’s child. She did not believe her first but eventually it all made sense. She had thought she could never be pregnant but she had been feeling different for a while before being murdered but always thought it was just the difficult circumstances of war.  
“Grey Worm, where do you think we should go? Mereen? Or should we stay here for a while longer?” Dany and Grey Worm were standing on the balcony of her spacious room, overlooking the busy streets of Volantis.  
“I think we should go to Mereen, my Queen. You are safe there, no one will be able to touch you. The Second Sons are still there, and we still have the Unsullied.” He looked at her with cold eyes. The War in Westeros had taken so much from him.  
She pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands. She was not sure what her purpose was anymore. All her life she wanted to take the Iron Throne, to help her people, to release them from tyranny. But the people in Westeros were not her people, she at last had realized. She was not their Myhsa, she was not the Breaker of Chains over there. She never wanted to return but at the same time, the anger she felt made her sometimes think about going there to kill the people who wronged her.  
“Then we shall go to Mereen. I will still seek to break the chains of every person here in Essos. I will not abandon that plan. But first,” she looked at him with a faint smile “Lets go home, first.”

Flying on top on Dragon was the only thing making her feel free these days. Only up there she could cry and scream and let out all her feelings without having to keep her queenly façade. Drogon’s heat underneath her was assuring and familiar, giving her the strength to not want to just leave it all behind. Drogon had not left her out of sight since she returned from the Darkness, always circling over her or sat on the rooftop of the building she had been living in. But now, on their way to Mereen, it was just them and the sky. The Unsullied had left Volantis in advance, leaving on ships. Grey Worm had wanted them to arrive before she did, so he could be sure there was no threat. They all had been somewhat sure that word would have surely travelled that Drogon was in Volantis, even though she had never left the house and only three people, including her Unsullied, had ever laid eyes on here there. But she knew that the people here were not stupid. The Unsullied, expect for Grey Worm and ten of his men, had all stayed outside of Volantis to not cause too much suspicion. But still, she feared that someone may had put everything together and sent word to Westeros.  
When she finally saw the great pyramid of Mereen in the distance, she felt a wave of calmness wash over her. Tears filled her eyes and Drogon roared, feeling how pleased his mother was to see Mereen.  
Drogon landed on the top of the pyramid but it was a venturous venture, since he had grown a lot since the last time. It took a bit of adjusting until Daenerys could dismount. She sighed with relief when she was met by Daario, Grey Worm and some Unsullied Soldiers and two of her handmaidens. e  
Daario was visibly nervous but smiling a big smile, holding on to the hilt of his dagger.  
“My Queen” he said while bowing down.  
Daenerys smiled a hollow smile and nodded with her head to let him know to stand up.  
“Daario. I see my city is still standing. Thank you for that.”  
“I did so for you, my Queen. I heard what happened and I’m on the brink of going over there myself with the Second Sons to avenge you and kill all those who harmed you” he sneered.  
Daenerys stood there, not even paying attention to what he was saying, instead turning around and looking over the city, as she had done so many times in the past. It looked peaceful from up there, the sun slowly beginning to set.  
“Please have a bath drawn for me and supper sent to my room.” She said softly, with her back to the people there. Both handmaidens rushed off with the words “At once, your Grace”.  
She could not bare look at any of them right now. She felt like she had failed them all. Her cause, her people, everything she stood for. Now back, she felt like she had returned without hope for her people. If she could not win a throne made by her own ancestors, how could she free the people that were dependent on her?  
She turned around and looked at Daario. She could tell that he had hoped she would fall into his arms and declare her undying love for him and that he was pained by the realization that he had waited for her only to be met by her as if they never even shared a bed.  
“Daario, may I speak alone with you tonight? In my chambers?” her words were quiet but firm, walking past the people and straight to her chambers.

“Daenerys, what happened to you over there?” he was sitting on the chair opposite of her. She was wearing a deep red; light gown and her hair was still damp from her bath an hour ago. It was loose except for a single thin braid holding the hair out of her face.  
“I thought you heard of what happened,” she said calmly. She was not interested in telling him every detail of what gruesome things happened to her.  
“I invited you here to talk about something else, anyway. Now that I am here again, I want to hold a meeting tomorrow morning. I want to know the situation Mereen is in.”  
“I can tell you right now- Mereen is fine. The people are happy. No slavers have tried to attack since the attack on Dragons Bay before you left. There is no threat at the moment,” he looked at her face, searching for any show of emotion but Daenerys looked at the flame of the candle in the middle of the table, almost in trance. He felt a sudden rush of coldness running down his spine. This was not the same woman he said farewell to. He reached over the table and put his hand over hers. She flinched and looked him straight at the face then.  
“I am no threat to you, Daenerys. You know me. I would never betray you. I will give my own life for yours if need be.”  
Daenerys knew he said the truth but still she had doubts about it. She never thought Jon would betray him and yet he did. In the cruelest way. The memory made her tear up.  
“No one knows anyone” Dany’s voice cracked in a way made her almost sound like a child.  
“I know you, Mother of Dragons. You are the strongest person I know. A fierce Queen.”  
Dany stood up, slowly, looking down at him. He gasped and his eyes widened when he looked at her. She had a visible bump, only now visible in the thin gown. He had not seen it when she stepped down from Drogon, wearing all kinds of layers of black leather and cloth.  
“I am to be a mother in some time, Daario. I need to know that this city is safe and sound for me to bring my child into this world. I have a destiny I have to fulfill and I will do so- here in Essos. But before I can free all of the people here, I need to go to Westeros one more time, to face someone who deserves to feel my wrath” her voice was stronger now, fierce and fiery and it was the first time since she had returned that he felt like it was truly Daenerys Stormborn.


	2. North of the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is brooding, thinking about the past and recieves some news.

Chapter 2:

Jon Snow

These people are my family now, he thought while sitting at a fire, listening to Tormund loudly tell some of the Freefolk about how he once laid with a female giant. It was unforgivingly cold up here in the North, but the people seemed happy. He had been with them for almost a month now, hunting, drinking and sitting around fires, telling old tales of events long in the past.  
Now, with the threat of the Night King gone, they could travel freely, without any fear. Thanks to Daenerys and her forces they defeated the Dead. A sharp pain pierced his body.  
He was still grieving even though he felt like he did not deserve to grieve. He had killed her, after all. Back then, it had seemed like the only right thing to do, the only way to save the people of Westeros and his family.  
She had killed innocent people, had looked like someone entirely else when he saw her at Dragonstone. Eyes empty, her body weak and her mind clouded by anger and sadness.  
“Let it be fear then” she had said.  
He should have put his arms around her then, should have told her that he was still there for her and asked her about her plans and feelings instead of leaving her in that cold and dark room after she uttered those words.  
He blamed himself for that every day. Sometimes he felt like he was just as much to blame. She truly had been alone at the end. Everyone betrayed her, even he did after Tyrion had bent him to the belief she would have murdered his family.  
Deep in his heart he knew that Dany would have never done such a thing but back there in the throne room, he was overcome by fear. Fear of her and for her, as he felt like she was not the woman he once bent the knee to.  
But he loved her, nonetheless. His Dany, the woman who saved him countless times, the woman who saved Westeros from the threat of the Dead and who had the dream to break the wheel and save the people from Cercei.  
“Are you thinking about the Dragon Queen again, little crow?” Tormund grabbed him by the shoulder, bending forward.  
“Aye”  
“Won’t do you no good. She’s dead,” Tormund stood up straight again, started walkig around the fire, now raising his voice to the people sitting around them.  
“I once rode Daenerys Stormborn’s dragon. The big black beast. You should have seen me climb up there, like I was born to do it” he started laughing.  
Jon could not listen to this story again, having heard it almost every night. He excused himself and started walking away from the fire. He went on walks more often nowadays, finding it to be the only time he could have some time to himself, without having to conceal his emotions. He saw Ghost coming up the hill they were staying on as he stopped walking to overlook the valley covered in snow. Once Ghost reached his side, he put his hand on his direwolf’s head and scratched it lovingly.  
He knew that Ghost felt his pain and grief and was thankful for his presence. Since coming back to the North their connection had grown again, sensing each other from miles away and being able to connect on a level he had never achieved with Rheagal.  
“She truly had lost so much for all of us Ghost. Even two sons. I can’t even imagine how horrible that must have been. I will never know what it means to lose a child since I won’t ever father one,” he glanced back at the Freefolk, sitting by the fires, laughing and drinking.  
“Maybe that’s for the best.”

Tormund and Jon had spent all morning hunting with a group of five other people. When they got back to where they had set up their tents, they were greeted by stark bannermen.  
“What is it?” Jon asked with a grim face.  
“Word from the Queen in the North” the man said as he handed a scroll to Jon.  
He opened it and was about to read it out loud until the name of Daenerys caught his eye.

_Jon – We have reason to belief that Daenerys Targaryen’s people are planning to seek revenge against the people in King’s Landing. Word has spread that the Unsullied and her dragon have been spotted in Volantis. They supposedly have travelled to Mereen and are building more ships. I write this to you as a warning, as they may also come for you. Sansa Stark, Queen in the North_

With not even a sound he turned around and walked away, scroll still in hand, a fire beginning to seethe. He had thought this business finished when he went beyond the wall. The politics, the scheming, the wars. He could hear Tormund yell something to him, but he could not make out the words. He wanted to be left alone.  
Drogon was spotted in Volantis. Why did the Unsullied to there as well? And why did they travel to Mereen with Drogon following them?  
He brought his hands to his face to cover his eyes. He found his eyes wet, tears rolling down his cheeks. Jon brushed them away and walked over to his tent, finding Ghost inside. His knees were weak and he knelt right there, in front of Ghost, sobbing quietly.  
Maybe he should face Dany’s people. He should feel their wrath for killing their Queen. He deserved it. He deserved a hundred knives to the heart for killing his blood, his greatest love, the woman who saved him.  
The demons deep inside him were getting louder every day, drowning him in self-pity and hatred towards himself. He truly became everything he thought he’d never become. And now her people would come and avenge her.  
But why does Drogon stay with the Unsullied now that his mother is dead? The great beast was not a friendly being, he was a free and fierce dragon, his mother had told him once.  
“He once was gone for a long time and it took a while for our bond to form,” she had said once night on the boat to White Harbor.  
“He is very protective of me and would harm anyone wishing me harm. Drogon would never leave my side, only after my death.”  
Remembering her always left a sour taste in his mouth, leaving him with even more guilt.

They had decided to travel back to the wall to hunt there since the cold north still did not provide much to hunt even after the Dead were gone and they had some ill people in their midst. Tormund knew of some Freefolk living close to the Wall so they decided to give them a visit as they had good healers and food there.  
The great wall could be seen from a great distance and even though Jon had seen it countless times, it still left him in awe.  
Once they arrived, the old and sick people were promptly taken care of by the group that lived right by the wall and Jon glanced up, hand on the tilt of Longclaw.  
“Wanna go up there?” Tormund asked with a big grin of his face.  
“No, I’d rather stay down here and see that the people get their food” he replied in a tired tone.  
He knew that Tormund was trying to cheer him up or to take his mind off of things but not even his support could keep Jon’s thoughts in a more happy place.  
“Jon, you have to stop thinking about her. The Dragon Queen will not rise from the ashes like some sort of God” he winked at him. “Not all people can come back from death.”  
“Some do.”  
Tormund chuckled and looked up to the sky.  
“She was a fierce woman, a strong and beautiful one. But even those women die. As do the men. There comes a time for all of us”  
Jon closed his eyes and sighed.  
“I am still confused as to why the dragon let you live though.”  
“I guess the did not see the point in giving me an easy end. Maybe he knew I would suffer for the rest of my life” he gave Tormund a sad smile who was now looking straight at him with a mixture of seriousness and concern in his eyes.  
“I think Drogon knew that leaving me alive was more punishment than killing me.”  
“Do you think dragons are smarter than men? Cause that’s what it sounds like to me then.”  
“I think Drogon is smarter than you, that’s for sure.” Tormund let out a huff and punched Jon’s shoulder jokingly.  
“What did your sister want from you?” his tone was now more teasing, as if he was liking the idea of Jon having to answer to his sister, the Queen.  
Jon rolled his eyes and shrugged. He did not want to tell Tormund, but he knew he had to. It was not only his life that was at risk of an attack should the allegations be true. It was all of the Freefolk that were following them.  
“She said that Daenerys’ follower are planning to seek revenge against the people in Kings Landing. I guess she is also implying that they might come for me too.”  
He looked over at Tormund whose mouth was left open in surprise, eyebrows drawn together.  
“I don’t know anything about her followers, but I know this cant be good.”  
“No, it isn’t good at all. That’s why I will leave you. I don’t want anyone of you to die for my sake.”  
Jon left Tormund standing there and walked back to his tent, grim face and icy look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wanted them to meet again in this chapter but then it just didnt feel right because I wanted to give some insight into Jon's mind first.   
> Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. My people are my home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany wants to go out into the streets of Mereen to see her people and meets someone she was not expecting.

**Daenerys**

Preparations were being made since the day she had decided to confront Jon Snow. At first she had not wanted to do so but she knew that she had to overcome her anger to be of a more healthy mind and for that, she had to face him. She had told Daario that she wanted Jon to feel her wrath but in reality, she only wanted an answer to the question she had been asking herself ever since being resurrected.

 

_Why did you betray me too?_

 

She put her hands on her growing bump, knowing that she was carrying his child filled her with immense love and also sadness. How could it be that their love gave her the one thing she had always wished for? And how could it be that their love was also the very thing that took it from her, even if unknowingly?

Hadn’t it been for the resurrection, Dany would have never known that she was carrying a child. Jon had not only his Queen, he had also killed his child.

Dany could feel her eyes tear up again, hot tears rolling down her cheek slowly. She needed to look upon his face and ask him why he felt the need to kill her instead of trying to talk to her properly, why he lost all faith in her.

There was a knock on the door that disrupted her thoughts.

“Come in.”

It was one of her Dothraki handmaidens, Davri. She smiled at her, shyly and bowed her head.

“I am here to braid your hair Khaleesi.”

Daenerys wiped away her tears and tried to smile back at her. The Khalasar had arrived a few days ago and she was grateful that they had remained loyal to her, even after she died and came back to life.

“Thank you Davri. I am always happy to have you in my chambers. I hope your day was nice. Are the Dothraki enjoying Mereen?”

Davri took her hair into her hand and started gently combing through it.

“The climate is more of our nature here and there is a lot of food,” she stopped combing the hair to put one of her hands on Dany’s shoulders.

“The people are happy, Khaleesi. But are you?”

The question took her by surprise, not having had anyone really ask her how she was doing.

“I am happy if my people are” she assured.

Davri started braiding the hair while continuing: “You have not been eating enough. It is not good for you or the child”

Dany knew it was still the hallow feeling of betrayal that had her not feeling like herself. Not eating, rarely stepping outside her room, wishing to stay in bed all day. She had to find her strength again, for herself, her child and her people. They needed her, just as her child did. But for that to happen, she needed peace of mind that only the confrontation with Jon Snow could bring her.

But she had to show her people that she was still somewhat the Queen she once was. Show herself to them, talk to them.

“I think I would like to go out tomorrow. To talk to the people of Mereen and see how my people are for myself. I think that might give me some strength,” she turned around, only a bit to not mess up the braiding.

“I have always found strength when I was around my people.”

Davri nodded, smiling.

“I think that is a good idea, Khaleesi.”

 

“That is a horrible idea, my Queen.” Daario had his arms folded in front of him, a serious look on his face.

“I have made up my mind. I need to show my face to my people. I need to see that they are happy with my own eyes,” she looked to her right, where Grey Worm was standing.

“I need to see that I am doing good, that I am not the monster I sometimes fear I am. Grey Worm, you and a handful of Unsullied will escort me.”

“You know that the people are supposed to think that you are dead, right? Don’t you think walking around through the streets might tip someone off that you are actually alive?” he sneered.

“These are my people Daario. They will not give words to my enemies” she growled.

Daario shook his head, now pleading: “Daenerys, these are not all your people. There are traders, beggars, whores from all over the continent travelling through Mereen.”

“Even if that is the case, I will be flying to Westeros tomorrow anyways. I am faster on Drogon than any raven. Before they have word about me being alive, I will already be on my way back here,” she had fire in her eyes and Daario knew he could not sway her decision.   
“And once I am back here, no one can do anything about it. What would they do? Send troops to Essos to kill me? No. They don’t have the men, they don’t know this part of the World and Mereen would never fall.”

Daario sighed, stood up and nodded.

“Very well, let’s go then.”

 

Daenerys was more nervous than she thought she would be. She wondered how the people would greet her. Would they cheer? Would they stare at her? Would they not pay her any attention?

She wanted to look as queenly and proud as possible, to not give away her anxiety. She was wearing a delicate, close-fitting red dress. It left her back bare, her silver hair falling it. Tiny black scales made out of metal were sown onto the shoulders, down to the waist. Davri had wanted to place a gorgeous crown made out of valyrian steel – they had found a smith who had made it with some of Drogon’s help – on her head, but Dany had refused. She did not feel worthy of the crown just yet.

And she did not need it to look like a Queen. When she stepped out of the security of the inner courtyard in front of the pyramid, she was a vision of fire. With Daario and Grey worm on each side and the handful Unsullied behind her, she started walking down the streets of Mereen. It was a beautiful sunny and hot day, the air humid and smelling of food. The people, to her surprise were happy to see her. People gasped and started walking towards her, smiling, yelling in all kinds of languages and sometimes she heard someone say “ _Mhysa!_ “.

Dany was overwhelmed by how the people seemed to still see her as their mother, their Queen. She talked to the people, listened to them and kissed children on their cheeks, smiling. For the first time since coming back to Essos, she felt at ease. These people were her home. She was their strength and they were hers. How could he have been so stupid to think her home was on the other side of the Narrow Sea?

So many days wasted on wars, betrayal, bloodshed and loss. All for some throne and for a false idea of destiny. Being here, surrounded by her people, she was thankful for having been given a second chance.

She kept on walking for an hour or so, until she arrived at one of the food markets. A girl brought her a basked full of fruit and held one up to her.   
“Is that for me, sweet girl?” she asked gently.

The girl smiled and nodded, beaming with happiness.

Dany chuckled and brought the fruit up to her mouth and something to her left caught her eye.

Her hand lost its strength and the fruit fell down, her heart felt like it had stopped, once again. Just a few steps away, standing there with big eyes and a shocked look: Arya Stark.

 

After she had seen Arya, the young girl had charged her, screaming. Daario, Grey Worm and the Unsullied had a hard time fighting against her, two losing their life to her dagger. Grey Worm had successfully knocked her out by ramming the end of his spear into her neck while she was trying to take out Daario. The little girl had run away crying, while Dany had just stood there in shock, not being able to comprehend what had happened. They now were back in the great pyramid, in the room where they usually had their council meetings.

Arya had not said a word since she had woken up, only growling and looking at Daenerys. She was chained to the chair opposite of Daenerys’, with 3 Unsullied right behind her.

“I guess you let your anger get the better of you. I am sure you would have been successful had you waited a bit longer to plot your attack,” Daenerys admitted.

“But once you saw me, you couldn’t hold back your anger, I suppose.”

Arya did not answer.

“Your anger is deserved, that is for sure. I guess you have heard what I did. I am not proud of my mistake, Arya. Back then, it seemed like the only thing that made sense,” she sighed, looking Arya straight into the eyes.

“Anger, sadness and loss make even the greatest people do horrible things. I have heard of the things you have done in the name of revenge. I know of things that Jon has done, even Sansa.”

“I did it to avenge my family. You murdered innocent people!” she hissed.

Dany raised an eyebrow, surprised how fast Arya broke her silence.

“Correct. I did so in order to show that people are not to think of me as weak. So that I could break the wheel and help the generations to come.”

“By killing the current one?”

“By showing strength. No one can rule by love alone, Arya. I regret how everything went down; I truly do. I wish I had not done it, but in the moment, it seemed so right. It did not make me happy to kill those people.”

Arya laughed sarcastically.

“You killed a tyrant and became one yourself!”

Grey Worm stepped forward, now standing next to Dany’s chair.

“You do not now my Queen as well as you think you do. She freed us all from of Masters and gave us our freedom. She wanted to do the same in Westeros. But she was not greeted with respect even after she saved all of your lives in Winterfell. Half of her people died so yours could live. And she got nothing but betrayal, mistrust and hate in return. You people did not deserve her help!” he growled.

Arya looked at him, seemingly impressed by his words.

“Still, Jon would not have killed her if he still thought about you as a good Queen. He killed you for a reason. I came here because I heard of the suspicious things I had heard. To find out if you were still alive, so I could kill you.”

“I know he thought he did was right, and I know it hurt him to kill me,” Dany stated calmly.

“He was embracing me in a kiss when he did it. He was crying.” She shook her head lightly.

“And yet, he did kill you!” Arya exclaimed.

“And yet, he killed me. And his child, too.” She looked down to her belly, putting a hand on it.

Arya looked at her in disbelief, not having noticed before.

“You are pregnant with his child?”

“I am. Listen, Arya,” she leaned forward, putting her arms on the table, trying to cover a bit of distance between them.

“I do not hate you and I understand your feelings towards me. They are justified. But I want to ask you a favor,” she looked at Arya, waiting for a response. She did not get one.

“I want you to ask to try to see things from my perspective. Try to understand what I did what I did. I am not looking to kill anymore of your people. I am truly sorry for what I did, I know it was wrong.”

“I’m willing to listen to you” she proclaimed with a fierceness that made Dany smile.

 

She has spent two hours with Arya, telling her about everything that had ever happened to her, back to her being sold by her own brother. She told her about how she lost everything once she set foot on Westeros, how her best friend was killed in front of her eyes, someone who she felt was her sister. How her Jorah was killed trying to protect her, how she lost two sons, how she lost the claim to the thing she had been working towards her whole life to the man she loved who turned out to be her  nephew, how her advisors gave her horrible advice, how they betrayed her for the man she loved and how it all made her decide that instilling fear was the only thing left.

Half-way through the conversation she had Grey Worm remove Arya’s chains. She felt no threat from her after seeing how Arya seemed to understand her more after having admitted to some horrible things she had done in the name of justice.

At the end of their stories they both sat opposite of each other, not saying a word, just caught in thoughts until Arya broke the silence.

“I was obsessed with the stories of your family. Especially Visenya Targaryen. I read so much about her when I was younger,” her eyes had a fierce glow to it.

“Even when I was younger, I knew I did not want to be a lady. I wanted to be like her instead.”

The thought of Arya thinking about her family in a positive way filled Dany with warmth and pride. Maybe the two of them weren’t as different as they both thought. She had never really talked to Arya when she was at Winterfell, her being busy with war strategies and Arya always being somewhere else, training or talking to the people.

“I always wanted to be a Queen. But only to be able to help my people, never just for the power. I think somehow along the way, I forgot that to my people here, I was already a Queen. I always thought I needed Westeros to see me as theirs too.”

“After knowing you better, I feel like you would have actually made a decent Queen for us” she said with a grin on her face.

They both looked at each other and started laughing hysterically.

“Well, what is your plan now? Are you still thinking about murdering me?” Dany asked, still smiling.

Arya shrugged and sighed.

“No, I will not kill you. At least not yet. It seems like we should have talked much sooner.”

“It seems so.”

“What is your plan now? Are you going to stay here forever?” she asked with curious eyes.

“No. I was planning to keep liberating the slaves here in Essos. My help is still gravely needed here. But first,” she looked at Arya, not knowing how she would receive what she was about to say next.   
“I will fly to Westeros once again, to face Jon. So I can finally lay the past to rest.”

Arya stood up, abruptly.

“You want to kill him?” she gasped.

Dany shook her head.

“No, Arya. I want to talk to him. I need to know what went through his head. Why he killed me instead of talking to me, comforting me,” she said.

“And tell him about his child.”

Arya seemed to understand, sighed and sat down again, putting her hand to the side of her head.

“I guess that makes sense. It is all so complicated” she grunted.

“Indeed, it is.”

“I want to come with you. I want to see Jon and I want to make sure that you won’t kill him.”

“I love your brother, still. Even though he killed me.”  
“How can you still love him? I sure as hell could not love somebody who killed me.”

“As we have established, I did horrible things. I know he did not want to kill me.”

It was strange how Dany felt safe in Arya’s presence considering she was planning to kill her just hours before. Somehow Dany knew that she did not have anything to fear from Arya now. Or maybe that was just false hope.

“Arya, I think it would be great for you to accompany me to Westeros. I did not plan to take anyone with me, but I will respect your wish” She turned to Grey Worm and said: “Please get one ship ready to sail to Westeros with me tomorrow. I want to have a handful of Unsullied, you and Daario with Arya on that ship. You will go to White Harbor; Arya will leave the ship there” she looked back at Arya who was nodding.

“I then want you to go to the Iron Islands and wait there for me. I will go there after I have talked to Jon Snow. Let Queen Yara know what I will be coming, if she’ll have me. Tell her not to tell anyone about me being alive.”

Grey Worm nodded and left the room, only leaving Dany, Arya and two Unsullied behind.

“Do you know where Jon is at the moment?” Arya asked.

“Not exactly. But it won’t be hard to find him on Drogon’s back.”

“How will I find him? And you?”

Dany grinned, leaning back in her chair.

“Well, I thought I might meet you at White Harbor and you and I could fly on Drogon together.”

It was the first time since meeting her, that Dany saw Arya completely lost in amazement and childish wonder. She opened her eyes so wide, it seemed like they were about to pop out before realizing that she let her guard down. She tried to keep it together, but Dany could see right through her.

“Sounds good” was the only thing Arya could say, with a tight feeling in her throat. She was clearly trying to pretend like it was not a big deal.

“Well then. Let’s have a room prepared for Arya Stark. We will leave early in the morning,” she stood up, nodding at the Unsullied.   
“Please bring her to her room and see that food will be brought to her.”

“You’ll let me stay here after I tried to kill you?” she asked.

“I’m sure you won’t kill me before being able to ride a dragon, right?” she asked jokingly and Arya smiled at her.

“You’re pretty smart.”

“And you are too, Arya. I will see you in the morning” she said, before leaving the room, feeling somewhat lighter and more confident.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i started this chapter right after finishing the last one because i was so excited about an idea i had. I really hate that the show did not show Dany and Arya talk once and i felt we were truly robbed of a fantastic friendship. Thats why I had to write this chapter right away. Hope you guys enjoyed it!


	4. The Dragon and the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Arya get ready for their journey to Westeros.

**Arya**

 

It was early in the morning when Arya opened her eyes, a strange feeling in her gut. _Excitement_ she thought.

She was excited, a pure and childing excitement, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Sure, she had been excited to go home to Winterfell after having been gone for so long. To see her siblings, to see Jon. But this was different. She felt a wave of unapologetic thrill running through her veins.

She jumped up and got dressed quickly, almost running down the hall of the great pyramid. She did not want to seem to excited though, so as soon as she saw people, she slowed down.

She walked to the hall in which Daenerys’ throne - or rather a very discreet bench made of stone – was. A few Unsullied, Daario, a lady dressed in red and Daenerys were standing there, talking.

“Arya! I hope you slept well,” Daenerys smiled at her and Arya smiled back politely.

“Our plans have changed just a bit.”

Arya raised her eyebrows, hands both pulled behind her back.  
“How so?” she asked.

“I was advised not to take a ship by my friend, Kinvara. She is a red priestess and I do trust her,” Daenerys nodded to the lady in red.

Arya looked at the woman in more detail and could see the resemblance to Melissandre, not just by the way both dressed. It was a weird and unsettling energy both of them radiated. Kinvara looked at her with her piercing green eyes, smiling knowingly. It made Arya uncomfortable, but she did not show it in the least.

“And why shouldn’t we?” Arya wondered.

“My child, as soon as Queen Daenerys steps foot outside of my proximity, the Three-eyed Raven can see that she is still alive. I have been with the Queen ever since I have brought her back to life, thanks to powers of the Lord of Light. Once she takes off on Drogon, I will not be able to shield her from his view,” Kinvara seemed to tell the truth, Arya decided. She understood that it was a bad thing for Bran to know, since he would immediately let Sansa know and the Gods only knew what she would do. Probably get ready for yet another war. But Arya knew Daenerys intentions, and she knew that Daenerys was telling the truth when she was saying she only wanted to talk to Jon.

“That doesn’t explain why we shouldn’t go with her. If she goes by herself, Bran will know all the same,” she argued.

Daenerys nodded, smiling.

“That is correct. But I will be faster. A ship takes far too long. Long enough for Bran to send words to your sister and Jon. I do not want to be met by an army, scorpions that could kill my son and another war at hands just because I wanted to speak with Jon. Instead, you and I will fly to Westeros together. Just the two of us, with Drogon.”

“But…still, Bran will know that you’re alive. They will send troops to Mereen, they will start another war. As long as you are alive, you are a threat to them. Even if you do not want to kill them, to them, you are a threat,” worry colored Arya’s’ tone as she looked from Daenerys to Kinvara.

“Can’t she just come with us? On the ship?”

The lady in red shook her head.  
“I am afraid I can’t leave. The Lord does not want me to leave.”

Arya rolled her eyes. She was pretty fed up with the talk of the Lord of Light.

“If he truly sees everything, he will know what my intentions are coming to Westeros. And if he does, why would he send troops here?” Daenerys asked, eyebrows raised.

There was a shimmer of childish hope in her voice, almost as if she was set on not seeing any negative outcome to the journey ahead. But Arya couldn’t fight her logic. They would need to stop along the way to Westeros a few times to rest and sleep and he would be able to see them talking and maybe see that Daenerys wasn’t the monster they had thought she was.

 _What if he doesn’t care?_ She thought. But Bran had told her once that the Three-eyed raven had no agenda of his own. Nonetheless, she had been very wary of her brother since he had become king. If he truly sees everything, how come he had never warned them about Euron hiding at Dragonstone, resulting in one of Daenerys’ dragons being killed? Her friend Missandei being captured and beheaded by Cercei? About Daenerys’ fall into grief and sadness? He had kept quiet about things that could have saved thousands of innocent people. He had kept quiet about Daenerys’ state of mind. He didn’t tell anyone how Varys and Tyrion were plotting behind Daenerys back. It all seemed to not make any sense, looking back.

“What if he still sends the troops?” she asked quietly, eyes trying not to meet Daenerys’.

“Then our theory is correct,” Kinvara said, chin raised.

“What theory?”

“That Brandon Stark has been the one behind the Queens downfall. That he had planned it all along.”

Arya could feel anger welling up, a natural reaction to someone accusing her brother of something like that but didn’t she feel like it could all be true? Wasn’t that what she had been to scared to wonder? But why would her brother do such a thing?

“Be careful with your words, he still is my brother,” she hissed, eyes narrow.

“He is not, Arya Stark. He is the Three-eyed raven,” she turned to Daenerys, bowed her head, then added: “We shall soon see. I wish you a good journey my Queen. I will see you soon.”

Without another word she left the room, leaving Arya confused and angry.

“Arya,” Daenerys said, putting one of her hands gently on her arm.

“I know this is a lot to take, but we need to be on our way soon.”

Arya nodded slowly.

“Daario, please take good care of Mereen while I’m gone. Get preparations going just in case Bran really does intend to send troops.”

Daario nodded, a smile on his face.  
“Gladly, my Queen,” he looked at Daenerys in a way Arya could only describe as admiration. But she could sense that the man was deeply in love with the Queen and he did not even seem to want to hide it. _Pathetic._

Daenerys was completely dressed in black, with only faint accents of red. Arya walked next to her, on their way out of the pyramid to the place where Drogon would be waiting for them and she could not stop watching Daenerys out of the corner of her eye. She looked like a true Targaryen Queen, many braids coming together as one, a fierce walk and eyes looking steadily forward as if the past was forgotten. Somehow Arya felt safe next to her which was weird considering she had thought of her as a murderous tyrant just days before. But after their talk she had found so many similarities between them and it had hit hard that she herself was no saint. She had done things for reason she thought right, but in reality, they were also not justified. But somehow this woman walking next to her was still going forward, not looking back.

When they exited the pyramid, Arya could already see the great black dragon waiting. He was even bigger than the last time she had seen him.

He let out a loud roar when he laid eyes on his mother and Arya felt her fingers heating up. I’m about to touch a dragon, she thought.

Once they got up to him, he lowered his head and nuzzled Daenerys lovingly. She giggled and put her head against the side of his head, putting her arms around his snout. Arya couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the tiny woman cozying up to a dragon. But she could see that this was a bond of a mother and a son, a rider and its dragon. A bond not to be messed with.

“Come, let him smell you,” Daenerys said.

Arya got closer, now looking directly into the eyes of the dragon. They looked like pure fire, intensely staring at her. She felt like his stare was heating up her body, examining her, testing her.

She always thought she would never be afraid of a dragon, the wonder too big. But now, standing in front of him, she couldn’t stop to feel a bit afraid.

_I can’t be afraid. I must show him my strength._

Drogon’s head got closer to her, he was baring his huge teeth, growling. Slowly, she raised her hand above her head, still looking straight into Drogon’s eyes. She took a deep breath, picturing all she had ever done in her life. She had faced so many horrible men. She had done so many horrible things.

Things she now regretted, things she still had not forgotten and things she wished to never think about. But now she was here, a world away, with Daenerys and Drogon, the last dragon.

No, she thought, his mother is a dragon too.

Drogon stopped growling all at once and was now breathing in her scent. She felt like time was standing still, like she was being judged by the dragon. She feared, for a moment, that he would rip her head off, but instead she saw his face come even closer, touching her hand.

Her eyes widened in surprise, all air leaving her lungs. She felt the heat the dragon was radiating. _Fire made flesh._

She sucked in air, feeling dizzy.

Drogon made a sound that she could only describe as a purr, then turned his head to his mother, who was laughing.

“You look like you just saw a ghost!” she mocked.

Arya started laughing too, a bit weak in her knees.

“He likes you. Drogon is an excellent judge of character” Dany winked at her.

“He is…so beautiful,” she marveled.

Dany nodded like a proud mother.  
“He is!” she said, then pointed to the bags Arya had let go off then she had looked into Drogon’s eyes.

“Let’s get these bags onto our backs and then we can get onto him. I’m eager to leave. We will have to stop a few times until we reach Westeros.”

Arya put one of the bags on her bags, handed one to Daenerys and watched her get onto the Dragon’s back. He lowered a shoulder to make it easier for her. Once Daenerys was settled, Arya looked at the shoulder worried, as Drogon lowered it slowly for her.

She had always dreamed about this moment. With a smile on her face she stepped on the shoulder carefully and climbed up with some help from Drogon and Daenerys.

Once she was sitting behind Daenerys, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is insane. I’m sitting on a fucking dragon.”

She heard Daenerys chuckling, turning around to her.

“And now, you will fly on one. Hold on to anything you can.”

Arya barely had time to find anything to hold onto, as Drogon was already off the ground. She let out a gasp and held onto Daenerys, closing her eyes.

She felt like she was in a dream when she opened her eyes again. The wind irritated her eyes at first, but then, she saw Mereen beneath her, clouds above her. And somehow, she felt like she had never felt safer in a long time. Drogon was hot beneath them, making her not even feel the cold wind that much. They went higher and higher until they were above the low-hanging clouds. She had never in her wildest dreams thought that she would fly on a dragon, yet here she was. Maybe the world wasn’t all too bad, she thought as she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I love Arya so much and really wanted to show what her thoughts on everything were, even if just a tiny bit.   
> Hope you liked it!


	5. The wolf on his knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is visited by the past

**Jon**

 

The North was brutal and isolating, but Jon hardly noticed. Him and Ghost had split form the Freefolk and had headed north, with just themselves and some food to keep them going for a bit. Jon had expected it to be a hard time, all alone with his thoughts, but he had never anticipated being ripped apart by all the memories drowning him out during the complete silence in the nights. There were hardly any noises at all up there in the North, the snow swallowing any noises. He dreamed about Daenerys every night, mostly just living through the same moment: Him, putting a knife into her heart. But every time he pulls back from the deadly kiss, to look at her, he sees himself looking back at him. Loose curls, wearing all black, looking up at him, eyes wide, mouth forming a “Why?”.

Every time, he is ripped out of sleep by that very moment, heart on his chest where he was once stabbed multiple times, gasping for air.

He had killed her the very same way he had been killed and it haunted him every day.

He was sure that he would never forgive himself for killing her. I must be the only person to know how it feels to be stabbed, he thought one day, and I still stabbed her, the woman I loved most.

_Ned Stark would be ashamed of me_

Jon thought about Ned often, trying to figure out why Ned had never told Jon about his mother. Did he fear that I would want to be kind? Did he fear that I would want to fight Robert Baratheon? Jon noticed how he started speaking to himself after a bit, not only to Ghost.

He talked to himself about Daenerys, how she was the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on, with eyes so soft and a smile so wonderful, it made him shiver just thinking about it.

The North had already left its mark on Jon, his hair wild and grown out a bit, touching his shoulders, beard grown too. His face looked tired and his eyes sad. He was set on just wandering the north forever, aimlessly, when he came across a waterfall one day. It almost brought him to his knees, remembering the last time he had ever seen a waterfall. It had been the day Daenerys had allowed him to ride Rheagal.

_“We could stay a thousand years”,_ she had said. _“No one would find us.”_

He should have stayed there with her. Grown old, ride dragons, love each other. But instead, he was faced with a hollow feeling in his heart, tears streaming down his face. He sat down, in front of the waterfall and Ghost quickly sat down next to him. Jon leaned over and buried his face in Ghost’s fur, sobbing.

They stayed there for a bit, until the sun began to set just behind the waterfall. He looked up at it and felt Ghost getting nervous beside him. Ghost got up, sat down again and was looking into the distance, perking his ears up.

Jon knew that something was off immediately and stood up as well. He turned around, looking in all directions but could neither hear nor see anything. Slowly he looked up to the waterfall again, sky painted in a beautiful reddish tone, when he heard a strangely familiar sound. Instantly, he felt chills running down his spine, ringing in his ears.

He heard wings, he heard a roar and then he saw him: Drogon coming down out of the clouds just behind the waterfall. The black beast let out a roar that made him take a few steps back, even though he wasn’t too close to the waterfall to begin with. Drogon had at least doubled in size since he had seen him last, almost filling out Jon’s whole view.

 

He has come to kill me, he thought. Drogon let out a roar again, then bowed his head down, over the edge of the waterfall. On his back, Jon could make out something, but he was too far away to really see.

Is there someone on his back? Jon felt a fire inside him all of the sudden. He wasn’t sure what it meant of why he suddenly felt alive, but he knew very well Drogon would never let anyone ride him besides Daenerys.

With a powerful roar, Drogon leapt into the air again, only to land right in front of Jon, earth shaking beneath him. He had a hard time to keep standing on his feet.

The dragon growled, baring his teeth, but then turned his head. Ghost was still standing by Jon, looking at the Dragon, ears perked. Jon’s hands were shaking, he almost felt like he could smell fire in the air. Smoke and ash and fire, he thought.

Drogon could have easily swallowed a giant or two at once. Drogon backed away a bit, making it possible for Jon to see his back.

_No, it can’t be_

On top of Drogon sat Daenerys herself, silver haired, dressed in black. She looked like a dream against the red sky. Jon barely noticed that his feet had taken him closer to the Dragon until he heard Drogon growl loudly as a warning. He stopped, mouth wide open, still looking at Daenerys as if she was an imagination of his mind. He would have stayed like that forever, until he saw Arya, sitting right behind Daenerys. She had a worried look on her face, but he could see a faint smile forming.

“D-Daenerys?” the word only coming out as a faint whisper.

She looked at him and all he saw was sadness. It made his heart ache with pain, but he still felt like this was just another one of his dreams. But how could it be? He could feel Drogon’s heat, he could feel the coldness of the wind and he could see her, against the red of the sky. How could this be a dream.

“You look like shit” he heard Arya say.

“Is this a dream?” Jon asked, finding his voice again.

“No, I’m afraid not” it was again Arya who spoke, now looking at Daenerys with worried eyes. Daenerys had not moved a muscle since she had landed in front of him, still staring at him, not saying a word.

But all of the sudden she snapped out of it and Drogon lowered his shoulder to the ground, Dany and Arya stepping off. She was now standing across from him, Arya by her side.

“How…?” he asked, looking to his feet. He did not feel like he deserved to even look at her. Was she here to kill him? How was she alive? Did his knife miss her heart?

“Look at me, Jon Snow” Daenerys said flatly. He remembered the last time he had heard her speak, in the throne room. She had sounded just like on the boat to White Harbor, filled with dreams and hopes of a better world. But now, she sounded tired and riddled with sadness.

He looked up, slowly and saw that she had gotten closer while Arya hadn’t moved a bit, evaluating the situation as it seemed.

Jon couldn’t take his eyes off hers now, seemingly trying to see if it was really her.

He tried hard to say something but somehow, he could not find any words worth of saying. But he knew he had to say something, he saw it in her eyes. She was waiting for him to say something.

“I am sorry,” he stuttered. “I am so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-“Suddenly, Daenerys closed the space between them, putting her right hand over his heart, looking up at his face, bitter smile on her face.

“Did it hurt when your brothers put their knives into your heart? People you trusted, looking at you while you died?” her words weren’t more than whispers.

Her words pierced his heart just as much as those knives did years before.

“Yes” he uttered.

“Imagine how it feels to feel a blade cutting into your heart while the person you love most looks upon your face,” she closed her eyes. “Imagine thinking you were in the arms of your lover only to find out you were in the arms of your murderer instead.” Her tone was as cold as the north, making him shiver.

He closed his eyes too, frowning. He could never imagine. He was sure that he would never be able to gain her forgiveness after what he did to her.

“Imagine,” she continued, “how it feels, Jon Snow. You killed me while we were kissing, right after you swore me that I would always be your queen,” she stepped back, her hand now gone from his chest.

“The last thing you told me before killing me was a lie. The honorable Jon Snow, killed his queen, killed his own blood, by lying to her and using her trust and love” she whispered.

He looked at her and tried to find all the strength he had left in his body.

“I am sorry, Dany. I-“ he looked at Arya and asked: “Could you leave us for a bit?”

Arya nodded and looked at Ghost.

“Let’s go hunt some food Ghost. I’ve missed you.”

Once they both left, he felt like he could speak more freely now. He loved his sister dearly, but he did not want her to hear the words he was about to speak.

“I have spent everyday since then regretting what I did and how I did it. You have to believe me. I loved you,” he smiled bitterly, “It wasn’t an easy decision, and one made far too quick. I had seen what you did to those innocent people, Dany. I was there, I saw the burnt bodies of children and their families. I saw the destruction. And when I go to the throne room you did not seem like the woman on the boat. The one I bent the knee to. You were talking about the people not having a choice. You were completely consumed by power. I feared that you might continue your destructive path.”

“And you took it upon yourself to see to my end? You thought of yourself so highly that you thought of yourself as my judge?” she hissed.

“I wanted to ensure that not more innocent people would die,” he said, looking down at his feet.

I had a lot of time to think and I know that I made many mistakes. I should have never told Sansa, I should have never let you alone after Missandei was killed, I should have never pushed you away when you needed me most. The Plotting by Varys and Tyrion, all of it. You lost so much in such a short span of time I know that it was anger, sadness and grief that pushed you to do what you did and still, it was wrong.”

“We both made mistakes. But I never killed you. Even after I found out you had a better claim to the throne, I saved you in battle. Even after you had betrayed me by telling Sansa, I still embraced you as my equal.”

“Tyrion made me believe my family would never be safe as long as you lived and back then, I believed him,” he admitted. “But now I know you would have never done that.”  
“I would have never done such a thing to you. You were my family, Jon” her eyes were slowly filling up with tears.

He wanted to put his arms around her and kiss the top of her head so badly, to tell her that he was still her family.

“I sometimes wonder if I would have done the same thing” he muttered, “If it had been one of my siblings, beheaded by the mountain, if it had been Sam being killed in the Great war, Davos plotting behind my back, Ghost killed by Euron, half my people eliminated by the Night King and his army. Would I have done the same?” he looks up to the sky, wondering if he had an answer, even now. He was still uncertain. He knows the fiery rage that can fill ones body. He felt it when he saw Rickon’s body hit the ground after being killed by arrows, he felt it when he was punching Ramsey almost to death, head filled with thoughts about Ramsey abusing his sister. He had felt it many times. But he couldn’t even think about losing as much as Daenerys had, all just because he had asked her to help her and she had agreed. He can only imagine the rage she must have felt when she killed those people. Rage towards Cercei, towards Westeros or maybe just towards the injustice of life.

“I have asked myself that very question too,” she sighed, “And I’d like to think that you would have too. But I guess we will never know. I regret what I did, Jon. I thought I did it for the right reasons, to induce fear in my enemies, since I had no love in Westeros. To ensure that the people feared me enough so that I could do what I always wanted to do - to help the people, to break the wheel. But I think I lost my way along the way. I was so dep into darkness, I was alone and isolated, I hadn’t eaten, I was sleep deprived. I did not think right.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you” he sniffed, eyes red.

“And I’m sorry for what I did. Still, it doesn’t change the past. I’m done with Westeros. I will continue my work in Essos, freeing the slaves.”

“What about the iron throne?” he wondered.

Daenerys scoffed at that question and he thought he could see a hint of a smile for a second.

“Your brother can have it. It brought me nothing but instead took everything from me. My family build a throne, united the seven kingdoms only for it to be sat on by someone with no political knowledge, someone who is more tree than human, then so be it. I heard your sister is now queen in the north. She must be proud to be a queen, at last. Even with a Stark on the iron throne, she still is queen of an independent North.”

“She always wanted to be a queen” he said.

“And a Queen she is. All alone in Winterfell, no family by her side,” Daenerys said, looking at him with tired eyes.

“I didn’t just come here to talk about the past, Jon. I came here to tell you about something more important.”

“What could be more important than the past?” he asked, defeated. He had spent all this time dwelling on the past, he could not even begin to imagine how he should suddenly stop to do so.

“When I was brought back to life, the priestess told me that it was not only my life that had been brought back by the Lord of light”, she now put her hands on her stomach and Jon followed her eyes down to them. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut when he suddenly could make out a bump. He had not seen it before, having been so focused on her face.

But it was there, nonetheless.

“But How? How?” he gulped.

“You know that I thought I would never have any children but my dragons, but it seems that the witch was wrong. Just like you thought.”

Jon couldn’t look away now that he had spotted the bump, his energy focused on not stretching out his hands to touch it.

“It seems like you killed your Queen _and_ your child, Jon Snow” her words sharp as knives, he felt himself coming down to his knees.

_He had killed his own child_

 “But as I said, lets not talk about the past anymore,” she stepped closer to him and put her hand on his cheek as he looked up at her.

“I came here to tell you that I am sorry too. We both made mistakes, but we are both still here, now. I needed to hear the words you spoke before being able to heal. I needed to tell you that I was sorry too and that I am carrying your child.”

“Dany, I am so sorry,” he cried, hands over his face.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive myself.”

“You must Jon, we both need to try to forgive ourselves to learn from our mistakes and look ahead instead of behind us.”

“How?”

“By accepting it.”

“Accepting what?”

“Our mistakes. By accepting what horrible things we did and by never doing them again. We have to learn from our mistakes, we can’t let them define us.”

“Will I get the chance to make you forgive me?”

She removed his hands from his face, looking upon his face, with tears in her eyes.

“When I came here, I thought I could never forgive you. Back in Meereen there was a short time I wanted to kill you even. I haven’t forgiven you, but I feel your pain. Its going to take time.”

That seemed enough for him, even if just for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me longer than usual to write this chapter because i really wanted to get it right but i need to accept that i cant please everyone so here it is! hope you enjoyed it.


	6. A Cold Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Arya leave the North

**Daenerys**

 

Seeing Jon stirred up more feelings than she had thought it would. On the way to Westeros Arya and her had countless conversations, about many different things: Jon, The Great War, Kings Landing, Dragons. Dany told her everything that had ever happened to her, the people she had met, the hardships she came across. Arya was a good listener and asked a lot of deep and meaningful questions. She also told Dany about her adventures, the time she went blind for a time, her training and about her wolf.

“I think you should train. With a sword,” Arya had said while they were eating in one of the smaller cities in Essos on their way here. “A Dragon Queen should know how to use a sword.”

And Daenerys loved the idea and had agreed.

Both of their journeys had been hard, long and eventful and they found themselves in each other, making their bond stronger.  
Drogon grew to like Arya a lot, not growling at her at all anymore. Dany wondered if it was because he was carrying her on his back now or if it was because she grew to like her more and more.

Both had wondered how Jon might react to her being alive and with his child and Arya would always say: “He loved you, that’s one thing I’m sure of. He will probably be happy.” Dany had frowned at that, still a fight inside of her. On the one hand she felt anger and bitterness towards him, on the other hand love and acceptance. She often felt like her heart was about to be torn to pieces, both sides tucking at it, constantly.

But now, looking at him, she felt strong. Strong in her decision to come here, strong because she felt like she could actually forgive him someday. She wasn’t planning on taking him with her or ever seeing him again, so she did not feel like there was a reason to kill him.

“What will you do back in Meereen?” he asked.

They were sitting around a fire, Drogon was off hunting. Ghost was sitting between Daenerys and Arya who were facing Jon, the small fire between them.

“I will rule with a council. Before I left Meereen before I came to Dragonstone, I let the people elect their own leaders. Once I have given birth and recovered, I will continue with conquering Essos and liberating the slaves” she announced, sounding like a true Queen.

Jon nodded. He looked older, she thought, older and weaker. His hair was falling in his face, skin weather-beaten.

“What about you, Arya?” he asked.

Arya put her hand through Ghosts fur, looking at Daenerys. Dany nodded, looking at the girl she had found a true friend in.

Arya cleared her throat then and turned to Jon.

“I have thought about it a lot and decided that I want to stay with Daenerys. She offered me to be the head of her Queens guard,” she said proudly, a smile on her lips.

Jon seemed taken aback by her words, frowning.

“You want to go to Meereen and live in a castle?” he questioned.

“Well, it’s a pyramid”

“Still, you want to not go travelling and instead live there?”

Arya nodded, slowly.

“As I said, I thought a lot about it. I don’t want to go back to Winterfell. There is nothing for me there. I don’t want to go to Kings landing. I certainly don’t want to be here, in the North,” she laughed. “I want to protect my nephew or niece. And I support Daenerys’ decision to continue liberating slaves.”

Dany smiled proudly, feeling the warm feeling of support. She had never thought to form such a close bond with the wild wolf Arya, fierce and strong. But she was glad about it nonetheless.

“How do the people in Meereen like the sister of the man who murdered their queen?” Jon asked.

“Arya will be met with nothing but respect and recognition in Meereen. The people there are not as set on revenge as you might think” Daenerys said, offended by his question.

“Really? Because I received a scroll from Sansa saying that your people are planning an attack. To seek revenge.”

Dany sat up straight at those words, body full of tension.

“You are severely misinformed then, Jon Snow. My people are not planning anything,” suddenly she stood, anger rising. “The only thing my people _are_ doing, is getting ready for an attack by Bran, if it should ever happen. Now that he knows that I am alive, my people fear that he seeks to have me killed.”

Arya reached out and took Dany’s hand in hers, trying to calm her down. Daenerys knew that she needed to try to calm down but the very thought of Sansa sending out ravens to tell people that her people would come to destroy them made her body shiver with anger.

She took a deep breath and sat down again, Arya’s hand still on hers.

“I assure you, neither me nor my people have any interest in searching revenge.”

“Good. Bran will know that and not attack, I’m sure of it” he said calmly.

Daenerys hoped that he was right, but she was still worried. Not only about a possible war but above all, for her child. She felt weak all of the sudden. The journey to the north had been hard on her. Her bones and muscles hurt and she was at a stage in her pregnancy where she felt very faint at the end of the day.

“We should find shelter and sleep” Arya said, sensing that Dany needed rest.

“Yes. We need to be rested for our journey home in the morning” Dany said.

“Will I ever see my child? Can’t I come with you?” Jon asked, eyes small. “I want to keep you safe too. After all I have done to you, I want to find a way to help” he almost sounded as if he was begging.

“I can’t have the man who murdered me beside me while I liberate Essos. I don’t trust you Jon. I may forgive you one day, but I am not sure I will ever trust you again” her voice wasn’t much louder than a mere whisper.

Jon’s jaw was clenched, dark shadows dancing over his face as he got closer to the fire.

“I want to know my child” he muttered.

She felt Arya’s hand gripping hers harder, almost as if she wanted to say something but was holding back.

Daenerys didn’t say anything. She was torn between still feeling this lightness and deep love towards him and the sting of his betrayal. What would her people think of a queen who lets the man who murdered her live or even live with her? She could never let her people think that she was weak. Weak for a man she loved, or weak in any other sense. But there was also her child, _his_ child. Would said child ever forgive her for keeping their father away? Would they understand that she did it because she was still afraid he might hurt her again? Because she hadn’t forgiven him yet?

“It is late. Let’s sleep” with those words Dany stood, Arya with her.

They found an abandoned hut not far away, Jon and Arya sleeping in there on furs her and Dany had brought from Meereen while Dany had insisted on sleeping outside, by Drogon’s side. She did not want to sleep anywhere but with the one she trusted the most, her son. The thought of sleeping in a small hut with Jon terrified her. She had had enough nightmares about him killing her over and over again, and she knew she would have never been able to sleep.

Instead, she was laying on furs on the ground. Drogon had burned away the snow for them, curling up around his mother, like a fort made out of fire made flesh. His wing was acting as a roof for Daenerys, completely sheltering from the outside. She was not cold at all, feeling Drogon’s heat around her. She placed one of her hands on his scales, sobbing silently.

Meeting Jon had inflicted too many emotions in her but above all, she had realized that she loved him still. After everything she still loved him and she felt like a stupid little girl.

_Why can’t I hate him?_

Her son seemed to sense her discomfort and made sounds that almost sounded like he was singing to her. A lullaby just for me, she thought. How come that a dragon is so terrifying to everyone, a great beast with teeth so sharp they could kill anything and yet he is also sensitive enough to sing his mother into sleep?

 

_Who would ever dare to love a dragon?_

 

She was ripped out of her sleep by hearing Drogon growl fiercely. She was still hidden by him completely, not seeing or hearing anything that was going on outside of his protection. Dany stood up, concerned. She could feel Drogon’s agitation.

“Drogon, let me see” she demanded, nervous about what she would face.

Drogon shifted, the ground shaking beneath her under his weight. He stayed by her side but perched his body up from the ground, wing still overhead, protecting her from the snow that was falling.

In front of her stood a tall man dressed in furs, with red hair. She recognized him immediately. Behind him were a few people dressed just as he was. Jon and Arya stood there too, both looking at Daenerys.

“Dragon Queen” Tormund took a step back, obvious disbelief in his eyes.

“Tormund,” she exclaimed. “What is this about?”

Arya walked to her side, Drogon just watching her, not making a sound.

“You look pretty fucking alive for a dead person” Tormund said.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow, stepping out under Drogon’s wing, Arya following her.

“What is it that you want?”

“We received word that you were still alive and that Sansa wants Jon and Arya to come to Winterfell immediately” he looked at Jon.

Jon shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Aye that sounds like her.”

“We have to go now, Daenerys” Arya pleaded. She seemed nervous, which made Dany nervous as well. Arya was not one to get startled easily and Dany knew that.

“If they know you are alive and not planning on seeking revenge, they won’t attack, Daenerys” Jon said, looking at her directly.

“What makes you think that?” she asked, hands massaging her temples. She could feel an headache coming.

“Why would Bran send troops to kill you and wage a war if he knows that you pose no threat?”

“Either way, we must go” Arya said before going into the hut to get their things.

“I will go to Winterfell and talk to her. I will tell Sansa that you don’t intent to start a war. She will listen to me.”  
Daenerys laughed darkly, looking at the sky.

“You must think me a fool. Have you learned nothing, Jon? You think of her too highly,” she looked at him again, seeing how her words hurt him, Good, she though. I hope it stings.

“I agree that I have made mistakes concerning Sansa, but I believe she would not wage a war tha-“  
“Jon, Sansa is my sister and I love her, but I don’t trust her after she broke the vow to you. The one she took in front of the weirwood tree. She betrayed your trust. There is a reason I swore to never go back to Winterfell” Arya interjected. She had their bags in her hand, handing one to Daenerys before looking at her, concerned look upon her face.

Dany looked up at Drogon, who then lowered his shoulder, eyes on Jon and Tormund, baring his teeth.

He could feel his mother’s nervousness and was ready to attack anyone who came even one step closer. Once seated, Dany looked down on Jon, questioning if this truly was the last time she would ever see him. It pained her to think about it, fearing that she might never love anyone as much as she loved him. Hate and love are such similar feelings, she thought to herself. Both so powerful, both run so deep.

“Goodbye Jon Snow,” she said, coldness in her tone. “Maybe someday we will see each other again.”

He looked like he was about to cry. It hurt her to see him like that, defeated. It felt like he did not have the energy to fight, to scream, to beg. It was just pure emptiness she saw inside his grey eyes.

“Jon, please don’t trust Sansa. Be careful. We will see each other again, I’m sure of it” Arya said behind her.

“Please don’t leave” was all Dany heard before Drogon took off. She couldn’t stay there a minute more. She felt so drained, a minute more and she would have cried in front of them all. It was hard to imagine that the once brave, strong-willed and stubborn Jon had been rendered to a begging, pleading, weak man. She shook her head as to stop herself from thinking about him. No, he and I might not be so different after all. They both went trough a lot and those times had left their mark. She wondered if he would ever be his old self again, but then again… would she?

 

They had been flying for a while when Dany suddenly felt sick to her stomach. It wasn’t her normal morning sickness; it was something else. She felt weak and sweaty, a foul taste in her mouth. Drogon immediately began to descend, which confused Arya.

“What is happening? Daenerys?” when Dany did not answer, Arya got louder. “Daenerys? Are you okay?”

Dany couldn’t find the strength to answer her, and instead tried to turn her head to Arya.

“Shit. Are you going to be sick?” she asked.

They were almost at the ground when she suddenly started to see the world closing in to itself, a thick black blanket being put over her.

 

When she awoke, she looked up at Arya’s face, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. She realized that her head was perched on her lap and that she wasn’t on Drogon anymore.

“W-What happened?” her mouth was so dry; she could barely speak.

“You almost fell off of Drogon. I could barely hold you up. Thankfully Drogon got to the ground just in time,” she put her hand on Dany’s forehead, lips pursed.

“You are burning, Daenerys.”

“I always am” she smiled.

“Here, have some water” Arya held some water to her mouth and she drank it. It helped a bit, but she still felt dizzy and weak.

“Where are we?”

“I’d say we’re somewhere around the fingers,” she muttered, looking around.

“We should get going soon. I don’t want to spend anymore time here than need be.”

“Arya, I can’t fly across the narrow sea like this.”  
“I know. We should let a Maester look at you.”  
Dany chuckled weakly; eyes closed.

“Where should we get a Maester that will heal the Mad Queen? Should we go to Kings Landing and ask for one?” she joked.

Arya rolled her eyes “No, I think we should fly to the Iron Islands. You like the Queen there, right? So lets go there and see if they have a Maester.”

Dany admired Arya. She was smarter than she let on, always thinking two steps ahead.  
“That is a good plan. How war is it from here?” she asked.

Arya frowned. “A good while. Will you be able to ride Drogon?”

Dany nodded, slowly getting onto her feet.  
Once up on his back, Dany leaned on Arya who was sitting behind her, head leaned onto her shoulder. She wondered why she suddenly felt so sick. Was it all the stress of seeing Jon? The long journey on the back of Drogon from Meereen to Westeros? She’d like to think that it was the Gods telling her to not be apart from Jon, but Dany never really believed in any of the Gods.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was shorter than i wanted it to be but I had to delete part of it since i decided to rather put that part into the next chapter. Next will be Arya!  
> hope you liked it.


	7. The Iron Islands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Daenerys visit the Iron Islands

**Arya**

 

It took all the strength she had to keep Daenerys from falling off of Drogon while he flew towards the Iron Islands. He was faster than usual, probably sensing that his mother needed aid, quickly. Daenerys was leaning against Arya, weak and eyes closed while Arya tried her best to hold her with one arm, the other on one of Drogon’s horns. Please hurry, Arya thought with a clenched jaw.

She could see that the woman was in pain and was sure that it wasn’t just physical pain. It must’ve been hard seeing the man that had killed her. When Arya had seen the two talk, she was sure she saw that both still had deep feelings for each other. Must be hard to love the person who murdered you. She could never imagine feeling anything but hatred towards someone who had betrayed her.

She had thought of Daenerys as a tyrant, a mad woman, not long ago but she had grown to like her. It seemed that there was a monster in everyone, man or woman. And if you feed it well enough, through murder, death, deceit, lies; it comes out eventually. Even in the best of people. She had once killed a whole house out of anger and revenge, she had done horrible things too. Arya wondered if there was a person on this earth who had not done anything wrong, ever. But she was sure that no person like that existed.

So, during their journey here she had decided to forgive Daenerys, even if the dragon queen would never forgive herself.

 

Drogon landed as softly as he could, Arya panting as she tried to keep from falling down with Daenerys in her arms. There were already a group of people gathered, probably having seen the great dragon form a great distance away.

With great difficulty, Arya tried to get Daenerys off of the dragon, when she saw a woman walk towards them. She could feel Drogon move underneath her and heard teeth snapping, a big growl following.

“I just want to help” she heard the woman say, arms up in the air, as if to show the dragon that she was not any danger.

“It’s alright Drogon” Arya yelled. But the Dragon did not listen to her, snapping once again, now so close, she feared the next time he would swallow her whole.

“Go back, I will get her down myself” she barked, fearing that Drogon might burn all of these people any second.

Finally, she had dragged Daenerys to Drogon’s shoulder. He lowered it to the ground and Arya half dragged, half carried her to the ground. Once down, Drogon sniffed his mother, turning his attention away from the strangers.

“Drogon, you have to let them through. We need help” Arya pleaded, looking into the fiery eyes of the dragon. His eyes stared at her for a moment before he made a high-pitched sound and moved away from them just enough to make room for the people to slowly come to help them.

The woman from before was at their side right away and Arya could now see that it was Yara. The last time she had seen her was at the Dragonpit, where she had wanted Jon dead. Anger swelled up inside of her, but she knew that it had no place right now, the limp body of Daenerys in her arms.

“What happened?” Yara asked, hands cradling Daenerys’ face.

“She is sick. Something is not right. She was fine and then suddenly, she fell sick.”

“We need to get her inside. Go and tell a Maester right away!” she yelled at one of the men, sitting on a horse. He nodded and rode off.

Yara turned her head to Drogon and then back to Arya, eyes worried.

“Will he kill us if we carry off his mother?” she asked.

“Who knows,” Arya murmured, already trying to lift Daenerys upper body. “We have to try. I think he trusts me, so I hope he knows that we mean no harm. Take her legs.”

Yara nodded and helped to get Daenerys off of the ground. The men helped them situate Daenerys on a horse and Arya behind her, holding on to her.

They rode off to the castle, Drogon flying overhead.

 

“She seems to have caught a fever,” the Maester said, once he came out of the chamber Daenerys was in. Yara nodded, hand fiddling with her lips, frowning. Arya was surprised how much Yara seemed to care about Daenerys and was sure that she would be no threat to her. She almost seemed to personally care about her as a person, not just someone she admired as a leader.

“Will she be alright?” she asked.

“Both will be. She needs to drink a lot and she needs so rest.”

“Both?” Yara asked confused, eyes wide open.

“She is with child, your grace” the old man said.  
Yara turned to Arya, “Is this true? Whose child is it?”  
“It’s my brothers” Arya sneered, knowing full well how Yara thought of her brother.

She could feel Yara’s mood shift in a split-second, growing angry. Her whole body language changed and she suddenly balled her hands to fists.

“This bastard…”she growled. “He put his seed in the queen and then murdered both?”

Arya’s hand rested calmly on the hilt of needle, ready to draw should Yara dare to say another word concerning her brother. But she knew that she could not kill the woman. She was helping Daenerys and without said help she and her baby would probably die.

“Mind your tongue. The queen had the chance to kill him, just a day ago. And she did not do so” she declared.

Yara took a step back, shocked.  
“She did not kill him?” she asked.

Arya shook her head. She was not going to discuss weather or not it had been a wise choice with Yara. She wanted to see Daenerys and stay by her side, making sure she was getting better.

“I will be at her side night and day until she is well enough to go back to Meereen. Until then-“ she looked at the two men at Yara’s side, lastly at her “Send a raven to Meereen and tell them, that we will be a few days later than planned. And no word to anyone that Daenerys is here.”

The men nodded reluctantly, while Yara was still just staring at her.

“No one in this castle will say a word to anyone. They swore to me. She will be safe here.”

“Good.”

 

It took Daenerys almost a week to gain her strength back. Arya never left her side, holding her hand when she was crying through the night with feverish nightmares, dabbing her forehead with a cloth that was dipped in cold water beforehand, telling her that her baby would be fine whenever Daenerys cradled her bump with a worried look.

Arya remembered how Lady Crane had taken care of her after she had been stabbed and felt weirdly motherly, never really having taken care of anyone. Once Daenerys was feeling better, two women had come to get her ready for a bath. Arya had accompanied them and watched them as they undressed Daenerys and helped her into the water, which was boiling hot, just as Daenerys had demanded. They combed her hair and put some oils in it and combed through it. They had than braided her hair into one big braid and helped her get into her clothes. Arya grew more restless every second they spent in the castle, knowing that Bran certainly already knew about their location. She wanted to get going, fast but the Maester had told them that Daenerys would need some more time to be able to fly across the Narrow Sea, if not for her sake, then for the babies. Daenerys had not talked a whole lot since she had felt better, almost as if she was lost in thought.

 

They were dining in the great hall with Yara when Arya saw Daenerys come back out of her daydreaming, sharing stories with Yara and laughing at some jokes the woman made. It was entirely obvious to Arya that Yara was smitten with Daenerys, always looking at her like she was the most beautiful creature ever to walk to earth.

“Tell me, your Grace, I heard that you encountered Jon Snow,” Yara said all of the sudden, “How is it that you left him unharmed?”

Arya tensed up, worrying about what this conversation might lead to.

“Yara, I appreciate your worry, but I assure you, it was the right thing to do” Daenerys said, leaned back in her chair, one hand on her bump.

“How? Because he is the father of your child?” she spat.

“Not just that. Forgiveness doesn’t come easy, and certainly not fast but it is vital to humanity, I think” Daenerys sighed, caressing her bump. “We both made mistakes, some more horrible than others. I won’t kill a man for doing what he thought best in the moment even if it was a horrible mistake. I think he was deceived by Tyrion Lannister; he was clouded by the worries he planted inside his head.”

Arya felt a lump in her throat, remembering how she, too, had told Jon that he would never be safe with Daenerys as queen, because she knew who he really was. She felt bad for it now but knew that she had only meant well. Arya wondered if she should tell Daenerys about it.

“Still, he killed you,” Yara insisted “How can you forgive him?!”

“I haven’t forgiven him. He will live beyond the wall for the rest of his life, alone. I saw him and I can tell that that is a far greater punishment than death.”

Arya remembered Jon’s face and she knew that he was riddled with regret and sorrow. He hadn’t looked like the brother she knew at all. It had broken her heart a bit. She had wanted to beg Daenerys to let him go with them, _please forgive him and take him away form here_ , she had wanted to say. But she knew that it was too early for that. Maybe Daenerys would let him come and stay with them once the child was born, she thought.

“I guess that is a bit of a relief,” Yara said, arms crossed in front of her breasts. “So what is the plan? When will we march on Kings Landing?”

Daenerys let out a long breath, massaging one of her temples with her hand. “We won’t march on Kings Landing. I have not come here to start another war. I was simply here to talk to Jon. We will fly back to Meereen in the morning, where my people are waiting for me.”

Yara suddenly stood, her chair almost tumbling over. “You want to let the boy sit on the throne? The throne you took from Cercei? The throne you died for?” she glowered.

Arya’s hand quickly held on to the hilt of her dagger, ready to kill the woman. She would love to spit in her face, she thought to herself in anger, for not only speaking ill of Jon but also Bran. She did not trust Bran, but he was still her blood. She would not have anyone talk about him like that.

Daenerys put one of her hands on hers and held one up palm flat. “Please calm yourself Yara. Sit down” she demanded, pointing to the chair.

Arya let go of the hilt reluctantly when Daenerys gave her a look as if she wanted to say _Stop it._

Yara sat down, frowning. “We have Dorne on our side. We could take them with all of our armies combined.”

“Indeed, we could, but I will not do that. I will not fight another war, the people here think of me as the Mad Queen already, they had no love for me, Yara.”

“When I thought of you dead, I agreed to make him King because it seemed like the best choice. But now that you are alive, you are” she insisted.

Dany closed her eyes. “I’m not, I can assure you. I thought the seven kingdoms were mine by right, but I’ve come to think that my destiny is in Essos.”

“You wanted to break the wheel. The wheel has not been broken” Yara pressed.

Arya saw Daenerys exhaustion. “Daenerys has told you what she intends to do and you should respect her wishes.”

“Very well,” Yara said, seemingly knowing that the conversation would lead nowhere. “If you ever change your mind, just know that I will stand by your side. I will always be your ally.”

Daenerys gave her a small smile, clearing her throat. “I thank you for that, Yara. If you wouldn’t mind, I’m getting very tired. I should get some rest.”

Yara stood, bowing her head. “Of course, your Grace.”

 

Arya was sleeping in her own chambers, after Daenerys had sworn she would be more than fine by herself. Arya had been reluctant at first but was happy with having a bed to sleep in rather than sitting in a chair the whole night, watching over Daenerys. Her chamber was right next to hers, with just a bed and a fireplace in it. She placed her sword and dagger next to her bed and let her body fall onto it, breathing out. She had been holding so much tension in over the day, she could feel her muscles softening now that she was not looking out for possible threats. She wasn’t sure if all of the people in the castle were to be trusted. She had been watching all of them closely but had not found any reason to suspect anything. But if her training had taught her anything, it was that no one could be trusted. She had been filled with pride when Daenerys had offered her the title as her Queenguard. It made her think of her father, and how proud he would be, his daughter protecting Daenerys Targaryen and Jon’s child she was carrying. She rolled to her side and watched the fire burning, listening to the sound it made. Daenerys can walk through fire, hatched dragon eggs and conquered cities, only to be killed by a simple blade, she thought. If someone like her can be killed that easily, so am I. She wondered where the thought came from, having never really thought about dying that much.

 

 

 


	8. Neither Dragon nor Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tormund arrive at Winterfell. It doesn't go as planned, at least not how Jon had planned it.

**Jon**

 

After Daenerys and Arya had left, Tormund and Jon had made their way down to Winterfell. It had taken them shorter than usual. Jon could see the castle now, standing there as if there hadn’t been a gruesome war just a short while ago. He was not particularly happy about going back to Winterfell, but he had to talk to Sansa. He had to tell her not to dare start a war against Daenerys. He knew that she meant it when she had said that she did not intend to seek revenge. Jon was sure that Bran knew and would never pursue a war, but he wasn’t sure about Sansa’s intentions. He knew that she thought of Daenerys as a tyrant, and that she was a culprit of Dany burning Kings Landing. She had driven her to do it just as much as he had done, by not staying at her side and leaving her alone in her sadness and her grief.

Tormund rode up beside him, giving him a sympathetic look. “Are you ready to go back there?”

“No” he admitted, “I never thought I would, considering I was sent to the Wall. Turns out having the King as your brother is very practical.”

Tormund shrugged, looking forward now. “I wonder what your sister will say once we tell her that Arya is on the Dragon Queen’s side now.”

“I’m sure she won’t be happy” Jon couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Arya siding with the one woman Sansa hated. He had been surprised at the news of Arya wanting to stay with Dany at first, but it made a lot of sense. Both shared many similarities and he was grateful to know that Dany and his child were protected by his sister. He knew all the people wanting to harm them would be dead within seconds. The thought of his child sent icy spears through his heart. He understood Dany’s decision but there was nothing he wanted more than to see his child grow up. He didn’t care about Westeros or anything anymore, really. He just wanted to be by Dany’s side. Paying his debt to her for not killing him, seeing his child, and if he was true with himself, because he still loved her. But he knew she would never let him stay by her side, not until he rose up to become a better man. Right now, he thought, I’m not more than a weak coward, torn up by my mistakes and failures. _I’m neither wolf nor dragon, I must be both to win back my honor._

 

They were greeted by Sansa and some men in the courtyard, Sansa wearing a black dress and a crown on her head. The sight of that made Jon feel uneasy, almost as if he was looking at the image of Cercei, when he met with her in the Dragonpit long ago.

She greeted him with a small smile, obviously holding up the façade for the people gathered around them, but he could feel the coldness through their hug. She was furious with him, he could tell.

“Let’s talk in private, shall we?” She motioned for him to come along, which he did. Tormund stayed behind with Ghost, a worried look on his face.

She didn’t say a word until they reached the library. Once the door closed behind them, she turned around, a furious look on her face.

“What were you thinking?” she snapped.

Jon took a step back, never having heard her so angry before. But he was in no mood to let her talk to him like this. He was sick of feeling like a coward. He knew that he had to become his old self again, to be able to be the man who could again stand proudly in front of Daenerys, to tell her to let him stay by her side.

Before he could utter a word, Sansa yelled: “Why didn’t you murder her when she came to see you? This woman is a tyrant!”

Jon took a step forward, anger waving over every word he said. “Don’t you dare, Sansa. She is no tyrant.”

Sansa let out an irritated breath, surprised by his anger. “She burned Kings Landing!”

“Tell me what you would do,” he sneered, “After you fought a war and lost half of your army, only to be met by a petty Northern Lady with nothing but disrespect. After you lost your most beloved advisor, your best friend, your claim to the throne you worked so hard for. After you have been deceived by your not so loyal advisors. What would you have done, Sansa?” he spitted.

Stunned by his words, she took a step back. “I would certainly not have burnt a city! Are you saying you would have done the same as she did?”

He thought about it for a second. “To be honest with you, I don’t know. We have all done horrible things. You included,” he hissed. “You broke your vow to me. You broke it and that very act brought her to burn the city just as much as Varys deceit, Tyrion’s many mistakes, my mistakes too. Its not entirely her fault and we ought to remember that.”

She shook her head, laughing sarcastically. “I won’t take blame for that power-hungry woman killing innocent people.”

“And what are you then?” he asked, voice growing louder. “You won’t even allow your own brother to rule over the north. You only told Tyrion about my parentage because you knew it would stir chaos. You knew he would tell Varys. It was all part of a grand plan; I give you that.”

“How dare y-“

“You only wanted me on the throne to then be Queen in the North yourself. You have learned from the best. Littlefinger, Cercei. When I bent the knee to Daenerys, she had a plan. She wanted to break the wheel. She has done it before, in several cities, in Essos. She had the misfortune to have Tyrion as hand, who made mistake after mistake. She had the misfortune to have met me, I guess, since I asked her to come north and save all of our lives. Which she did, might I remind you. While you were doing what? Sitting down in the crypts?” He felt the fire burning everywhere now, in his lungs, in his heart, in his head. At one point it felt like fire was all there was to him.

Sansa did not answer him, she only looked at him with wide eyes, mouth wide open. Jon could not remember the last time Sansa was at loss of words.

“You are just as much to blame. Remember that,” he snapped. “And I swear to you. Should you even think about starting a war against her, I will personally see to it that she wins it.”

“Jon, you killed her!” she hissed. “You killed her and now you say that she is not to blame.”

He shook his head. “She is to blame but not entirely. I talked to her. She regrets it. She was not here to start a war; she was here to talk to me. She is no threat; she is on her way to Essos again.”

Her expression changed, suddenly sly and arrogant.

“She is on the Iron Islands.”

“What?” he asked, his voice breathless.

Sansa walked around the big table, sitting down, looking at him. “I have received a raven from Bran telling me that she fell ill and is currently on the Iron Islands.”

“Ill? What is it? Did he say?” he asked, frowning.

“No. Only that she will stay there for a bit longer.”

Jon could tell that there was something she wasn’t telling him. Her eyes betrayed her.

His hands were gripping the back of the chair, knuckles whitening. “What else did he say?”

She cleared her throat and folded her hands in front of her on the table.

“He sent an army north, scorpions with them. They will wait around the Riverlands to shoot her down.”

He did not feel his hand grip the tilt of Longclaw, and he was not aware of how he bolted forward, almost knocking Sansa off of her chair. His left hand gripping the chair, the other on his sword he bent down over her, face darkened by anger.  
“She is not here to harm anyone,” he growled, almost wanting to rip her head off. She looked back with disgust.

“Jon, it is not in my hands. It’s the King’s army, not mine.” She looked at his hand on Longclaw, then back up to him. “Are you going to kill me now?”

“No. But I swear this to you. Should anything happen to her, I might.” He stood straight, ready to walk out. He had to get a Raven to the Iron Islands immediately, to warn them. He could not let anything happen to Daenerys or their child. And Arya was with them too. _Arya._

“If Bran knows that Daenerys is on the Iron Islands, he also knows that Arya is with her. They are riding on Drogon together. So if they shoot down the Dragon, Arya dies too” he declared. He did not even want to think about losing all of the people most important to him, all at the hands of Bran.

The info seemed to be new to Sansa as she gasped and stood, hands touching the needle that she always wore on her necklace.

“Arya is with her?! Why didn’t you free her?” she yelled.

Jon shook his head. “It seems that Bran is not giving you all the information. Arya is with Daenerys because she wants to be. She is no prisoner. Daenerys named Arya her Queensguard.”

“Why, Wh-“ she whispered, but stopped herself. After a few breaths she sat down again, arms crossed in front of her. “Why?” she said, finally.

“Because she spent time with Daenerys, and she knows that she is no tyrant. Because…” he hesitated a moment, not sure if it was right to tell her about the child. He was afraid that Sansa might see her as even a greater threat, now with an heir on the way. “because she knows that Daenerys is not lying when she said she does not want to seek revenge against the people of Westeros. She wants to go back and liberate the slaves in Essos.”

Sansa did not say anything, just looking at him, lost in thought.

“Sansa, she is no threat to you or the realm. Bran should know this. I don’t know why he sent his armies but if they hurt her, I will avenge her” he warned.

“I am surprised. That she even got Arya to believe her lies… Must have been a lot of work. You, I guess, did only require a mere conversation. But I must give it to her, she is not stupid.”

Jon was close to hitting his own sister. Or cousin. He did not care. Right now, she did not feel like family.

 

_Ned Stark would be ashamed of me_

 

But he would be ashamed of her too, he thought. He only had resentment towards her, at that moment. She was the power-hungry one, not Daenerys. He thought back to how Daenerys told him how she gained her power, by liberating slaves, tricking their masters, giving weapons to the slaves, burning khals that wanted to rape her to the ground, stepping out of the fire unharmed. She literally rose from the ashes with the first dragons in hundred years, unharmed. And what had Sansa done to get her power? She had endured horrible things as well, and he felt for her because of it. But she had gotten her power through lies, deceit, chaos. She did not want power to help people like Dany, she wanted it just for powers sake. And now she was sitting in front of him with a smug look on her face, wanting Dany, the mother of his child, dead.

He took a deep breath, scared of himself, not wanting to actually hurt her. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, not to harsh but harsh enough to make her hiss.

“Listen closely, Sansa. Daenerys is a better woman than you will ever be, even having burnt half of Kings Landing. I will walk out of Winterfell and I will never come back. You will be forever alone here, without family. The Queen in the North, aye. But all alone.”

He did not wait to hear her response, walking towards the door.

“Wait. You think I’d let you walk out here so you can get word to your beloved tyrant?” she asked. He turned around, taking a step towards her. “Are you threatening me?” he barked.

“No. But you will stay here until Daenerys is dealt with.”

He laughed darkly, holding up his arms. “Are you going to throw me in a cell? You alone? Do you think you could take me?”

She shook her head. “The men in front of the door will. I told them to take you as prisoner.”

At that moment, he was reminded of Cat. Somehow, he felt like the outsider once again. Thrown in a cell at his supposed home, Winterfell.

 He opened the door, Longclaw in his hand and was encountered by about twenty men.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its gonna get reeeeeal next chapter (Daenerys). Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I really loved writing Jon and Sansas conversation as it was kinda like therapy for me (god i hated season 8 Sansa).
> 
> My plan is to have Season 1-7 Jon back after this chapter. I really really like the idea of a darker Jon, not the whitewashed version of season 8.


	9. The son of ice and fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tormund fight in Winterfell; Jon finally embraces his inner dragon and wolf.

**Jon**

 

He tasted ash in his mouth. There was no fire around him, here in the halls of Winterfell, but there was one deep inside him, burning through his veins. He felt like an animal when he drew Longclaw, thirsting to rip every single man that stood in his way to pieces. He could not remember the last time he had felt like this, but he did not intend to stop it. Jon knew he was outnumbered, and he was out of shape, but the animal-like anger made him cut the men’s throats as if he was born to do it. He never liked killing but, in this moment, it made him feel stronger than ever before. He felt Ghosts presence before he could see him jumping into the middle, teeth buried in the throat of one of the men, eyes as red as the blood splattered across his white fur. He heard screams and felt blood splash across his face, cutting through one body after the other.

It took them both no longer than a few minutes to kill all of the men, leaving Jon panting between the bodies. He was torn between wanting to go back into the library to kill Sansa and to get to the ravens fast.

 _For Ned, I will let you live. But the next time I see you, I will kill you._ He thought, turning around to see her in a state of shock, hand in front of her opened mouth, eyes so far open, it looked like they were about to fall out.

“If you ever cross me, I will see to your end” he growled. Without waiting for an answer, he started running towards the yard.

 

The ravens were all gone. Not one single raven was left, the cages all empty. He formed his hand into a fist and slammed it against the wall, screaming. He felt useless, all of the sudden. He would not be able to get word to Dany. Maybe it was too late anyways.

He had to get to the Riverlands. He just had to try.

Without another thought the made his way to the courtyard, where he saw Tormund fighting against some northerners. Longclaw drawn, he jumped in and helped Tormund finish off the last men.   
“We need to get the horses and then ride south,” he ordered, pointing to where their horses had been brought to. Tormund nodded.

“What the fuck just happened?” he asked, running along side Jon.

“I’ll tell you later.”

They got to the horses, noticing that there were more northern soldiers running towards them.

With a not so glamorous jump Jon got onto the horse, driving his heels into the side, making the horse jump forward. Some of the men were trying to get to the gate, to close it. Without hesitation Jon drew Longclaw and cut one of the men’s heads off, Tormund the others. As soon as they were out of the gates, Jon turned his head, looking at Winterfell one last time. He remembered how he had always felt like an outsider there, not like it was truly his home. And as it turned out, it never was.

 

After a good while they had slowed down, riding next to each other, Ghost running ahead.

“Did your sister try to kill you?” Tormund inquired; eyebrows raised.

“Sansa is not…yes” he grunted “Yes, she tried to have me killed. I wanted to get word to Daenerys. Bran sent an army to the Riverlands, to shoot her down.”

“The Riverlands? I thought she was on her way to Essos.”   
“Aye, but apparently she got sick and they had to stay on the Iron Islands for a while. She had to get better first. That’s why Bran had enough time to send and army.”   
“And how do you plan on saving the Dragon Queen? Us two against an army?” Tormund blurted. Jon sighed; his head felt heavy. He had no idea what to do. They could not fight against hundreds of men. He somehow was sure that Dany would not be hurt, that Drogon would be able to doge all the bolts. They would make it; he was sure of it. Maybe Dany was already flying over the narrow sea, warm wind combing through her hair, a smiling Arya behind her.

“I have no idea. We should just get there first and then see what the situation is like. Maybe she had burnt them all already.” The thought of seeing nothing but ash left him feeling uneasy but not because it reminded him of King’s Landing. He had long accepted the past and was not scared of Dany making the same mistakes twice. It made him feel uneasy because it meant that there would have been a fight, a chance that she might have been hurt.

“Did you kill her?”

“You know I killed her” he snapped, frowning.

Tormund shook his head. “No. Sansa.”

“No. I couldn’t. The thought of Ned Stark… I couldn’t. But next time, I will. I have to.”

Tormund shook his head, smile on his face. “Well, I’m glad to have you back, Jon Snow.” Jon frowned again. “What does that mean?”

Tormund let out a slight laugh, giving him a meaningful look. “I haven’t seen you so wolf-like in a long time. It seems like fighting brings out the wolf in you. And I’m glad to see it.”

“Not just the wolf. The dragon, too” he revealed, eyes growing darker. He had not told Tormund about his parentage yet, but he felt like Tormund would not care too much anyways.

“The dragon?” Tormund mimicked.

“When I arrived at Winterfell with Daenerys, Samwell told me that Ned Stark was not my father but rather my uncle. My real parents are Lyanna Stark and Rheagar Targaryen. I am a wolf, and a dragon… It’s funny if you think about it. I spent my whole life thinking I was no real wolf, only a bastard. I always felt like the odd one out. But it makes so much sense now. I’m neither wolf nor dragon, I’m a combination of both.”

“A dragonwolf” Tormund blurted out, without missing a beat.

 

_A dragonwolf_

He looked up to the sky and wondered if Lyanna Stark would be proud of him. He had spent countless hours thinking about who his mother might be. A whore? A lady? A poor woman begging for food? Now that he knew the truth, it made him feel content. His mother had loved him and had loved his father. He imagined them both standing next to each other, only knowing what they looked like from stories told by others. He wondered which features he shared with his father. He looked like a typical Stark, not sharing any of the obvious features of a Targaryen.

He did not have the beautiful silver hair like Daenerys, that made her stand out so easily. Right now, he could not even remember why he had such a hard time accepting that they were related. Something in the back of his mind had told him that it was wrong to kiss and lust after his aunt, but now, he felt nothing but desire. He wanted to devour her with his mouth, leave his marks on her neck and show her how much he still loved her, cared for her. He wanted her to forget anything bad that had ever happened to her, to show her that he had no problem with them being from the same blood.

 _Fire and Blood,_ he thought suddenly. Targaryens were known to wed sister to brother, keeping their bloodline pure. He had to caution himself, not wanting to drown in thoughts about marrying Dany, as he was sure she would never even let him touch her. It pained him to think about how he had behaved in King’s Landing, even before. Just a weak man, uttering the same words over and over. But not anymore. He was re-born, a true dragonwolf. And he was on his way to Daenerys, the woman he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be Daenerys.   
> I actually wanted to have her chapter before this one, but it made more sense to have another Jon chapter before.   
> Hope you guys liked it.


	10. Stormborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany and Arya fly east

 

**Daenerys**

 

The sky was filled with clouds, hanging over the horizon thick and grey, cold wind waving through her hair as she stood at the window overlooking the sea. She had been here for three weeks, fighting off a horrible fever and waiting for the Maester to clear her for her journey. It had been three weeks of uncertainty and fear, especially after watching Arya grow more and more nervous, side-eying every person in every room, always. Dany had spent most of the time recovering and trying to gain back her strength, lying awake with feverish nightmares almost every day. It had only gotten better the last week, the nightmares almost gone entirely. The dreams had always consisted of the same thing: The overwhelming, all-consuming anger and grief she had felt right before she had started burning Kings Landing, almost as if in trance. Almost, as if she had no real power over her own thoughts, her own body. She only tasted ashes and blood in her mouth, remembered bringing Drogon closer to the ground, and then there was fire. Fire and Blood, she thought.

The talks she had had with Yara while on the Iron Islands had been mostly great, Yara being someone Dany felt like she did not have to keep up her queenly façade too much. She found a true friend in the intense woman, although she was aware of Yara’s shameless flirting. Dany kind of liked it, if she was honest with herself. Had the situation been different, she might have flirted back. She was glad that there were still people who believed in her, especially Arya. Their friendship had grown deeper since arriving on the Iron Islands. She remembered Arya’s small hand clutching her own every night during the nightmares, stroking over her head or reminding her that everything would be alright. After losing Missandei, Dany had thought she might never find a friend like her. And even though Arya was entirely different to Missandei, she was just as fierce in her love for her friends than the woman she had freed from slavery.

She looked down at her hands, tears in her eyes. Her heart ached when she thought of the beautiful Missandei, and how she died in chains. It had broken her heart, made her second guess every decision she ever made. She whished she could see her smile one more time, whished that she could embrace her one last time.

A knock brought her back to reality.

“Come in” she said, softly, eyes still watery. She turned her head and saw Arya, fur draped across her shoulders, her traveling outfit.

“It’s time,” Arya announced, holding a black cloak with fur sewed on in her arms. “I had this made for you. I don’t want you to catch a cold on the way. It is black wolfs fur.”

Dany walked across the room, arms stretched out, fingers tracing over the soft black fur. Weirdly enough, she thought of Drogon. Even if he had rough scales, they were the same deep black as the fur. She smiled, thinking of Ghost, too. It made her feel like she had a connection to Jon, the thought of it confusing her a bit.

“It Is beautiful. Thank you, Arya” she beamed, holding it up. It was so long; it would almost touch the ground once on her shoulders. It had a hood, which had no fur on it, just black, thick wool with some red detailing on the edge. Arya helped her put it on, tying it together at the front.

She took a step back, glowing. “It looks good on you.”

“Shall we head out then? I know you want to get going as soon as possible” Dany said, “It is going to be a long journey.”

Arya nodded and followed her through the door. Yara had told them to meet her outside and that she had a good-bye gift for them. As they walked through the castle, Dany thought about how she was not sad to leave. The castle was gray and dark, she felt like she was in a cell most of the time. She was longing for the sun in Meereen, the smells of the spices, the people she knew around her. _My people…I miss them so much._

 

“This is a sword I had made for you. Arya had told me that she is going to teach you and I thought what better parting gift to give you than a sword” Yara handed her a sword, and Daenerys gasped when she saw the dragonhead on the hilt. It was black and looked fierce, just like Drogon, with small sapphires as eyes.  She held it against the sun and smiled when she noticed the weight of it. It was not too heavy, but also not light at all. It looked beautiful.

She was in awe, thinking about her ancestors in that very moment. It filled her with fire, having a sword in her hand, with Drogon’s approving purr in her ear.

“Can I see?” she heard Arya ask. She handed it to her and turned to Yara. “I can not even begin to tell you how much this means, truly. I thank you,” she smiled, grabbing Yara’s hand to show her gratitude. Yara smirked, looking down at her hand. “If it is allowed, I would like to embrace you in a hug, your grace. I feel like we are more friends than political allies now.”

Daenerys laughed, embracing Yara in a genuine hug. She was genuinely surprised how often she had laughed during the last three weeks thanks to the Iron born. Dany would miss her greatly.  
“If you ever decide to travel around, be sure to visit me in Meereen. You are always welcome” she declared.

Yara took a step back and nodded, still a smirk on her face. “Thank you. I’m sure I will. Won’t be the same around here without you, your grace.”

Dany smiled at her, then turned to Arya who gave her back her sword. “This is no toy. Be careful that you don’t cut yourself” she smirked, “All the best swords have names, you know?”

Daenerys couldn’t quite make out the look on Arya’s face, but she thought she saw her holding back a giggle.  
“Silver” she whispered, finger running over the blade, thinking about the mare that Drogo had gifted her. She felt a smile forming on her lips, being reminded of that moment. Somehow, she felt more like a Khaleesi than a queen, standing there with her silver in hand.

“I like it” Arya noted.

 

They had been flying east for a while now, keeping just underneath the clouds to keep on track. It was so easy to lose the way over the clouds, even if it looked like heaven up there. They needed to get to Meereen fast, having spent way too much time in Westeros. But after no ravens arrived, and no armies looked to arrive on ships surrounding the Iron Islands Arya had shrugged “Bran surely knows your intention and that’s why he is not sending anything. I don’t think we need to worry.” But Dany had been restless still. The fact that they did not even receive a raven was suspicious, and now, on Drogon, she kept her eyes peeled for any out of the ordinary. She could sense Drogon’s calmness and felt his heat underneath her, giving her assurance and stability. Since being reborn, she had felt a new, deeper connection to her son, that she was not able to put into words. At times it felt like both were one, not having to communicate with words. When she called him before, she had to call his name silently into her thoughts, but now she only thought of him and he would swoop down from the sky, almost as if he was connected to her brain.

“Look!” Arya yelled behind her, trying to be heard over the strong wind. “That cloud looks like a wolf!” She pointed to Dany’s right, but she could not see any Wolf like cloud. She appreciated the thought, nonetheless, turning her head a bit. “Yes! It’s beautiful” she giggled.

Arya rolled her eyes, lips pursed. “You’re lying, I can tell. You can’t see it.”

Dany wanted to say something back at her but was hit by a wave of anxiety hitting her in her stomach, almost knocking the air out of her lungs. She turned back to look forward and noticed that it was Drogon who was feeling at unease. She frowned and tried to make out what was making him feel anxious when a sudden burst of air and a loud familiar sound to her left almost made her fall off. She followed the sound and watched the huge bolt fly into the clouds.

She felt Arya tense up behind her and immediately looked up to the clouds, Drogon immediately picking up speed and height, gliding up through the clouds. Dany could feel the wetness wrapping around her, cooling her face. “What the hell?” she heard Arya yell, but she could not answer. Her heart was beating so fast, she felt like it might explode, and she with it. Suddenly, her mouth tasted of ash and blood, just like her nightmares. She tried to shake the thought, think clearly, but her hands were shaking. No, her whole body was shaking.

Drogon let out high-pitched growls, almost as if he was experiencing the same sensation as her.

She knew that she had to be calm and collected for them to be able to face whatever was on the ground.

Then, she saw two bolts shooting up through the clouds just before them, one shortly after the other. Barely avoiding them, she looked back at Arya, who was holding on to her for dear life. She could not let her down. She could not let herself down. She was Daenerys Stormborn and she would not die on the back of her dragon, in Westeros. She knew that she could not stay above the clouds because even if the people down on the ground could not see her, one of those bolts might hit the target. Because Dany could also not see them coming. She had to bring Drogon down and fight whoever dared to attack her and her family.

She took a deep breath, still tasting the blood in her mouth but the ashy taste had turned into something more familiar. Fire, she thought.

 

_Fire and Blood._

 

For my child, she thought. _And for myself, Arya. Drogon. I will keep you safe._ Without any more hesitation, she made Drogon go down in an aggressive dive. When they came out of the clouds, she saw the army. It was large, larger than she had thought it might be. She could make out about ten scorpions, all scattered on the field. Dany at first did not notice herself letting out an angry and fierce scream, until she heard Drogon roar in synchronization.

One, two, three more bolts were fired but Drogon was no beginner when it came to dodge them.

“Daenerys!” Arya yelled behind her. “You have to burn them, now!”

Dany held on tighter to Drogon, blood rushing through her body. The word she was about to utter came from deep within her, almost feeling like he was about to spit fire herself.  
“Dracarys” she roared, and she could feel the heat of the flame dancing over the world.

It did not take long for her and Drogon to burn the scorpions, until only one was left. She had deliberately tried not to burn any of the soldiers, but she could not help to burn those standing right by the scorpions. She was curious as to why there was an army in the first place, since no man on ground could fight her on her dragon in the sky. Maybe they had hoped to shoot him down and kill him on the ground. The thought of it made her tense up, feeling like her skin was about to burn. Drogon was about to rain fire upon the last scorpion when Dany found herself being completely hit to the left by a strong force and before she could even gather what had happened, she felt a sharp pain between her ribs, hand searching for a wound but not feeling one. Only then she realized that Drogon hat been shot, not her. Drogon let out a high-pitched roar that shattered her heart, she heard Arya scream something behind her but she could not make out the words. The pain was overwhelming, she felt like Drogon’s roars were shattering her insides. My son, she thought, my sweet son what happened?

She looked to the left while Drogon was half falling, half diving to the ground, trying to keep himself upright so his mother and Arya would not fall off. Dany could make out another scorpion that had been hidden inside a wagon, only now unveiled.

She felt los, all of the sudden. Without her dragon, what was she? She was no great fighter.

 

_I am a dragon_

She felt Arya holding onto her when they hit the ground. Drogon intentionally absorbed most of the impact of the fall, trying to keep his mother safe. But still, once they hit the ground, Dany lost her grip and they fell, hitting some of Drogon’s horns which slowed the fall down.

Once on the ground, Arya spared no time to draw her sword and yell “Daenerys you have to get up. Get up and draw your sword.” The fall had hurt but Dany was not injured too much. She looked down at her bump, hot tears streaming down her face. She could not lose this child. Not again. She would not let anyone kill her and with that the baby. She stood, wobbly knees, drawing her sword. Without hesitation she walked around Drogon to see how badly he was injured. He was growling at the men who were approaching them, letting his mother pass underneath his head. Dany saw the bolt, it was deep into his side, just between the ribs. Nothing vital would be hurt, she hoped. He did not seem to be too badly hurt but still- she needed to get it out. Now that Drogon was bigger, the bolts were not as harmful, his scales even thicker than before. She grabbed onto the bolt and pulled with all of her strength, Drogon shrieking. The bolt did not move much, but she could feel it wouldn’t take much longer to get it out if she would keep on pulling as hard as she could.  
All of the sudden she felt heat around her and the familiar sound of flames was not too far away. Drogon was burning the soldiers running towards them. Fools, she thought with a small smile on her face, why would anyone charge a dragon?

Something deep inside her told her to duck immediately and she did. As soon as she did, she saw Drogon’s head above her, yanking the bolt out of his body himself, shattering the massive wood with his teeth. Another heartbeat and his head was gone, raining more fire on the people closing in. She saw that soldiers were closing in from behind as well and yelled for Arya who came up next to her moments later.

“We need to get on Drogon again, hurry” she said, already climbing up his shoulder.  
“Will he be able to fly?” Arya questioned.

“Yes. I know he will. I can feel it. Get up.”

Once on top of his back, she tried to get an overview of the situation, to see how many soldiers were left. Drogon had burnt almost half of the army, the smell of burnt flesh and blood hanging in the air. It made her want to vomit now, reminding her of the last time she had experienced that smell. But this time, it was different. She had had no intention of killing them. Even now, she wanted to get away, not to burn the rest. Drogon shook his head with a shriek, trying to get off the ground but tripping.

“Drogon, you can do it!” she screamed. She felt Drogon respond, roaring, swinging into the air. He was hurt, she could tell, but he would need to get them to safety before she could tend to his wound.

 

They flew for about an hour before landing next to a river. Smoke was coming out of his wound, blood sizzling, his fire evident.

“We have to wash it out. Can you get some water?” Dany asked, hand softly put next to the wound. It was twice as big as her hand, and almost just as deep. Drogon was laying flat on his stomach, head propped up on one of his wings, watching her. She felt like he was trying to tell her that he was going to be fine, and to not worry. She tried to smile but she felt sadness wash over her instead. She almost lost her son today. The one creature she loved most on this earth, almost gone. She leaned her head onto his warm scales, smelling nothing but fire. It was funny to her how the smell of fire could be the one thing reminding her of home. Or maybe it wasn’t. She was a dragon, after all.

“Here,” she heard Arya saying next to her. “Is he in a lot of pain?”  
Dany shrugged as she poured the water into the wound, carefully. The water vaporizing almost immediately. She put some of it on a piece of cloth and cleaned the wound carefully, Drogon not making a sound.

“I don’t think its too bad. But he needs to rest. We should stay here for the night.”

“I’ll find some wood to burn then” Arya sighed.

After eating some of the food they had brought with them form the Iron Islands, both decided to sit on some logs next to the river, Drogon behind them, keeping them company.

All they could see was lush green grass and some trees, and a river so big, Dany felt like it should be called a lake. Somehow the view made her smile, having not had a moment like this in a long time. Just sitting by a river, looking at the grass dancing to the wind.

“It seems like your brother did send an army after all,” she stated, watching the sun’s reflection dancing on the water.

“They were no northern soldiers, that is certain. But why would Bran send an army? He has to know that you meant no harm” she whispered, thoughtful look on her face.

“I wish I could tell you that it might be a misunderstanding, but my gut tells me he knew I had to intention to hurt anyone and he wanted me dead nonetheless.”

Arya sighed and let her head fall into her hands. “But why?” she moaned.

Dany felt like hugging her tightly, but she felt like it would be too much for Arya in that moment.

“Arya, I think we ought to remember that Bran is not your brother anymore. As far as I know, he is the three-eyed raven. I’m not sure there is anything of Bran left” she said softly, hoping to get Arya to understand where she was coming from. She knew that Arya was fierce when it came to her family and that she would not easily accept that her brother might not exist anymore.

“Kinvara has told me something back in Volantis and I didn’t quite believe her back then, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”

Arya looked up at her now, eyes watery.

“Bran had had the chance to tell us all about so many things. He supposedly knows everything so why did he make Samwell tell Jon about his parentage? He must have known it would drive Jon and me apart. Why did he not tell me about Euron’s fleet waiting for me at Dragonstone? Why did he not tell me about Cercei’s plan to kill Missandei? Why did he not tell me about Varys betrayal? He deliberately must have kept all this information to himself. And what for?” she asked, bitter taste on her tongue. “So he can sit on the Iron Throne.”

Arya’s eyes widened; brows arched up.

“In the Dragon pit… he had said something that made it sound like he knew he would sit on the throne” she gasped.

It did not surprise Dany. She felt merely shocked, having been through what she had been through.

“I knew he wasn’t Bran anymore, but I still had some hope left I guess” she added.

Dany took Arya’s hand into her own.

“I am so sorry Arya. Families are tricky. There isn’t always just love.”

A second later, Arya had her arms wrapped around her body, her face buried into her neck. It felt so overwhelmingly genuine that it made her feel like family. Without hesitation Dany embraced her, hugged her as tightly as she could, putting her hand on the back of Arya’s head.

“Thank you, Dany” Arya whispered. It was the first time she had called her Dany, ever. The realization of that made Dany smirk. “Thank you for treating me like family even after everything that happened. I remember telling Jon that you were not one of us. I’m ashamed of that now.”

“Don’t be ashamed about that, Arya. We did not know each other back then. We do now. You are part of my family, even if we are not related by blood” she hummed, fingers weaving through Arya’s hair. She could feel tears on her neck, but she did not say anything. She knew that Arya always tried to keep up her tough façade and she did not want to make her feel weak. Even if crying had never made anyone appear weak. Dany often saw it as a sign of empathy, of still being able to feel.

“You are a part of my family too,” Arya whispered, before leaning out of the embrace to look Daenerys into the eyes. “And I swear to you, I will never betray you or hurt you. I will always stay by your side” she proclaimed.

Dany shook her head lightly. The words were spoken with honesty and determination, but she could not hear these words without knowing that blind loyalty was nothing she wished for.

“No,” she declared, “I do not want blind loyalty. I want you to tell me when you think I’m making a mistake. I want you to counsel me, to tell me whenever you feel there is a better solution than the one I have in mind. Arya, you are smart, and you are capable. I want you to feel like your voice is being heard.”

Arya nodded. “I swear it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Jon's chapter before was pretty short i wanted to write a longer one for you guys. Im really invested in this fanfic and will keep on writing for some time! hope you like it.


	11. A Sleepless Night

**Arya**

 

It was night; the stars were brighter than usual since it was a New Moon. There was a cold breeze going, making the grass dance. Dany was asleep next to her, hugging a ball of furs tightly, covered by the cloak Arya had had made for her.

She looked so young when she was sleeping, silver hair hanging into her face and flowing over most of her body like a river. Arya looked over to Drogon who was staring directly at her, eyes soft. He seemed to also look out for enemies, or maybe he was just watching over his mother. Arya worried that the men Drogon hadn’t burned would track them down. They had spent way too long in Westeros already and she was eager to go east. When that bolt had hit Drogon, she was sure that she would die. At least I die riding a dragon, she had thought. But Drogon had saved them both, taking most of the impact. It was not only the bolt that had hurt him, he seemed like every muscle hurt him a lot, which only made sense after falling from the sky. She smiled weakly at the dragon, wondering if he knew what a smile was. She wondered if he knew that she was grateful. The Dragon let out a breath through his nostrils, blinking at her.

“He likes you.”

Arya turned her head to see Dany, eyes open, smiling.

“How do you know?” she wondered.

Dany yawned and made herself more comfortable by adjusting the cloak. “I feel it. Drogon and I have a strong connection. I can’t describe it but I just know what he feels and sometimes I swear I can sense what he thinks too.”

Arya smiled at the thought of that. “I know what you mean. I used to feel the same with my direwolf Nymeria.”

Dany raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh? I didn’t know you had a wolf as well. Where is she?”

“She has a pack of regular wolves. I met her before I returned to Winterfell,” she whispered, remembering the encounter. “I wanted her to come with me to Winterfell, but she did not want to come. I was frustrated at first but then,” she looked up at the sky, hands interlaced behind her head. “I realized that Nymeria was not a pet. She had her own pack now and she would not fare well in a castle.”

Dany chuckled, sitting up. “Sounds like she is a lot like you then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you don’t strike me as someone who would do well in a castle” Dany said.

Arya sat up too, frowning. “Why did you name me your Queensguard if you think I won’t do well in a castle then?”

Dany smiled and stood up slowly, putting the cloak around her shoulders. “Arya, I don’t like in a castle for starters. I live in a pyramid. Also, we won’t stay there too long until we begin our journey across Essos. I would never have named you commander of my Queensguard if I believed you would hate it.”

Arya smiled then, nodding. “Alright. What are you up to?” She pointed to the cloak.

“I have to relieve myself. I’m going to go over to the trees. I’ll be back shortly.”

“I want to come, too.”

Dany shook her head. “No. You should rest. I won’t be long, I promise you. Besides, Drogon right here will let us know if someone is close.”

Drogon purred softly, watching Dany as she walked over to the trees. Arya followed her with her eyes, until the darkness swallowed her.

She sat up, anxiety washing over her. She had a bad feeling all of the sudden, the hairs in her neck standing up right. But Drogon seemed relaxed, eyes still fixated on the spot where Dany had walked into the woods, too.

“I’m going to go after her” she mumbled as she stood up.

Then, out of nowhere, Drogon’s head tensed up and he practically jumped up with an irritated sounding purr. Arya looked up at him and couldn’t make out much, as he was so dark, he blended into the night sky without problem. His head was too far up, and she could not make out his piercing red eyes to find out where he was looking to. But she did not have to. She knew something was wrong. Without any more hesitation she ran into the direction of the woods, noticing how she could barely see once she reached the edge of the woods. It was not a problem for her, as she had been blind in the past but her anxiety and fear for Dany did not make it easier to not stumble on roots coming out of the ground.

  
“Daenerys” she yelled panicked. “Dany?”

No answer. She stopped, trying to listen if she could make out any sounds. In the distance she could hear something, but she couldn’t make out what it was exactly. She suddenly heard Drogon screech and take off, wings flapping overhead. She started walking again, faster this time, trying to think of the direction Dany might have walked in.

“Dany!” she yelled again, throat already burning. She felt like she was back in training, trying to find her way through the streets with no sight.

It was harder to do that in a forest, as there was no way to feel where a root would be or a boulder.

A roar on her right almost made her fall over. She knew exactly that Drogon had either been hurt or found his mother. She could feel panic swell up inside her gut as she ran into the direction of the roar, wondering what she might find. In the distance she could now make out light, one, two, three and then a lot all of the sudden. Torches, she thought. There must be people with torches.

As she got closer, she slowed down, trying not to be seen. She had to find out what was going on before she could make a decision. She reached the end of the woods and hid behind a big boulder, down on her knees. She looked over it and could see at least fifty men on horses and twenty on foot, surrounded by a circle of scorpions. Then, in the middle of the circle, she was Daenerys, either unconscious or dead, propped on a horse, a man sitting behind her.

Anger swept over every inch of her body. She knew she would not be able to defeat them all. Then she saw Drogon circling over them, obviously trying to decide how to save his mother as well. He was not stupid, and he knew he could not get too close with the scorpions around.

She saw how two of the scorpions were already being reloaded and she feared that they might have hurt Drogon again and that was why he was circling so far up ahead instead of attacking.

She tensed up, trying to think of what to do. The man on the horse seemed to give instructions to the others but she could only hear him yell “We have to kill him!”

Then, a sound behind her. She had her dagger in her hand before she could even take another breath. She swiftly turned around and held her dagger to a man’s throat.

“Arya, it is me” Jon grunted, hands above his head.

She gasped, and let the dagger slip out of her hand. With teary eyes she wrapped her arms around him, then stepped back.

“Why are you here? How did you get here?” she asked breathless.

“No time for explanations. We have to save her. Tormund is with me too” he nodded to their right and she saw him lurking over Jon’s shoulder.

“How the fuck are we going to save her?” he asked, frowning.

Arya was asking herself that very question too. “I hate to say it but I think we need to somehow lure Drogon away. We need them to think they are safe and get to where they want to go so we can ambush them. That’s the best chance” she muttered.

Jon nodded. “I thought the same. With those many scorpions and without Dany on his back, he is sure to get shot. But how do we tell him to leave?” he looked up at the sky.

Arya was sure she would get him to understand, but she needed to get his attention first. “I need to get out on the open. I need to get his attention.”

Jon held onto her arm as she tried to move towards the field. “They will spot you” he warned.

“They are too busy looking out for Drogon. Trust me. I’m smaller and faster than you both.” He hesitated for a moment but then he nodded.

Swiftly she left the safety of the trees, sneaking in between the tall grass. She looked up and watched Drogon fly in circles, letting out deep growls. She was not sure how good his hearing was and if he would even listen, but she whispered, with as much power that a whisper could have without becoming a scream: “Drogon!”

The great dragon did not stop, just kept on circling overhead. She noticed the men getting ready to shoot as she heard them scream: “Wait until he is lower!”

“Drogon, LEAVE” she said, not whispering anymore. She was sure that the men would not hear her since she was too far away, and they were too busy with trying to kill Drogon.

Drogon let out a sound that almost sounded like a cry and flew over into her direction. She stumbled back, realizing that he was planning to land.   
“NO! No! Drogon, you must leave. We will save your mother I promise but I need you to leave” she cried, shaking her head so much, her neck hurt.

With another cry she saw him gain height again, before she saw him disappear behind a cloud. She felt her body almost collapse, having harbored so much tenseness from fearing for the dragon’s life. Deep in her bones she knew that he had realized that it would be the only chance. Also, she knew that he was still there, probably circling above the clouds, ready to attack should they lay a hand on Dany.   
She heard Jon and Tormund approach, but she kept her eyes on the men. “Get your horses. We need to follow them.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jon’s grip on Longclaw, knuckles white. She looked up at his face and found him looking angry, jaw clenched, his beard and hair shorter than the last time she had seen him. He had his hair in a bun again and looked much better than up in the North. She could see the fire in his eyes, she could feel it, too.

“If they hurt her, I’ll kill them all. One by one” he hissed. She believed him.

“I’ll get the horses” Tormund said.

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Change of Plans

**Daenerys**

 

When she woke, all she heard was a small fire burning on her right. She could not see at first, but after blinking a few times, her eyes had adjusted to the light. She was in a big tent, sitting on furs, hands and feet chained together, a piece of cloth gagging her.  She looked around, no person was in the tent with her, just a small fire and a big table with a map on it. Fear built up inside her but she was quick to take a deep breath. She knew she had to be calm and collected for whatever situation she was in. The last thing she remembered was walking into the woods. She wondered if they had Arya too.

“Ah, you’re awake” a man stepped into the tent, a smug look on his face. He walked over to her and hunkered down in front of her. With fast movement, he yanked the cloth out of her mouth.   
“Don’t talk without being asked first or I will cut out your throat” he ordered, smirking.

Dany narrowed her eyes, wondering why he hadn’t killed her already.   
“I don’t know if you remember me, but I was the man who shot your big black beast when you slaughtered the Lannister army,” he grinned, obviously very proud of himself. She did not react to what he said, even though she wanted to rip his head off right then and there. “My name is Bronn. I had hoped you would show me the kindness of showing me just how wild the Dragon Queen is in bed, since I’ve heard tales about it. But King Bran is adamant to have you brought to him alive and unharmed.”

She curled her lips in disgust. “I would rather die than touch you” she hissed. Bronn leaped forward and took her throat into his hand, pressing down just enough to make her suck in air in surprise.   
“I told you not to speak without being asked. I guess waiting for instructions is hard on a tyrant” he spitted. Dany could feel his breath on her face, smelling like ale. She was not afraid of him, but she sure was disgusted. She had killed worse men than him and had endured enough to know empty threats. She knew he would not kill her, and she knew he would not cut out her tongue. If she had not been pregnant, she would have spit right in his face, but she was afraid he might decide to somehow hurt the baby since Bran had only talked about her not being hurt.

Bronn then let go of her, eyes still on her face, with a threatful look upon them.

“Listen closely. Tyrion told me an awful lot about you. Apparently, you not only let your dragon burn people, you also love to do it yourself. So, I have instructed everyone to keep you from fire, always. We will ride to King’s Landing, where you will be killed. Any questions?”

She looked at him, dead eyes, trying not to show emotions.

“Why not kill me know?” she questioned.

Bronn sighed, stood up and looked at the map on the table. “I wanted to kill you right away but Tyrion and the King were adamant to have you killed in Kings Landing, apparently they feel like a public death in front of the people whose families you killed might be more fitting.”

She looked down to her hands and smiled sadly. How fitting, she thought. She imagined seeing an angry mob of people all yelling for her death, angry looks on their faces, throwing waste and food scrapes at her. And her, looking up to the sky wishing for Drogon right before the blade cut her head from her body. _Drogon,_ she thought suddenly. She felt his presence near and could feel his exhaustion and hurt. Dany could see, as if through thick fog, Arya calling out for Drogon to leave. Dany immediately knew that Arya had a plan, otherwise she would have never told Drogon to leave.

 

_Drogon, my sweet son. I need you to leave and recover. I’m alright. I will need you soon, but you will need to be rested and recovered._

 

She felt him growl in resistance, but his presence was getting further away, meaning that he got the message. Dany would not let her son get hurt even more.

“And your people will cheer even more to see a pregnant woman being killed, I bet” she muttered.

Bronn looked at her and Dany was not sure if she saw a flash of pity shining through them.   
“Probably, yes. Anyways, we will be on the road for a time. What did you do to the stark girl? Killed her?”

“Yes” she said, hoping that he would believe her. If they thought her dead, they would not look for her. Dany was sure that Arya would already be on her way to save her.

Bronn raised one eyebrow. “You want to tell me that you killed Arya Stark? That girl is one of the finest fighters, as far as I’ve been told.”

Dany shrugged, putting on a fake smile. “Drogon does not care about who is a fine fighter and who is not. His flame was faster than her small blade. She did not even have a chance.”

She looked at him and saw his face darken. He believed her; she was sure of it.

“And where is said dragon now? Seems like he does not love his mother too much. We have so many scorpions with us though. We hit him again, when he tried to save you. Maybe he’s dying somewhere.”

His words cut deep, but she did not let him see it. She felt that he had been hit again, but it was not too bad. He would recover, she was sure of it.

“Maybe” she whispered.

Then, a man came in, wearing armor she had never seen. There was a raven engraved into the breastplate.

“We received word that we are to immediately kill Daenerys once we have her” said one of them, hand softly put on the hilt of his sword.

“Ha. Guess the King changed his mind then,” Bronn laughed, walking over towards her. “How shall we kill her? What do you guys think? I’d like to have her ride me first” he mumbled as he bent over, yanking her up by the chains around her wrists.   
She let out a gasp as the force of him pulling her up made her dizzy for a moment. She stood before him, disgust painting her face as she pulled her head back from his coming closer.

“Or should I kill you right away? Maybe I’ll let you suffer.”

“How about slitting the throat?” suggested the man, now standing beside them. He had a calm look on his face but something in his eyes made Dany shiver.

“Well, I guess that would do the job. Would be sad to cut into her beautiful body though. Such a shame” Bronn grunted, letting his fingers trace along her throat.   
Dany narrowed her eyes and decided not to go down like a coward. Without hesitation she lowered her head fast and bit his fingers as hard as she could, tasting blood on her tongue. Bronn jumped back and hissed. “You fucking bitch.”

“I was not talking about slitting _her_ throat” the men said ominously, then grabbed a dagger out of his belt and in the blink of an eye, Bronn’s throat was cut, blood seeping out of it. The man’s eyes were opened in horror, grabbing onto his throat. He fell into the pool of his own blood, mouth wide open.

The blood has splashed into Dany’s face, making her press her eyes shut. When she opened it, she saw Arya, wearing the man’s armor.   
“Arya?” she cried, happy to see her.

Arya crouched down beside the man she had just killed and found the key to her chains, opening it with steady hands.

Dany remembered that Arya had been trained by the faceless men. She had told her all about how she had killed house Frey by stealing Walder Frey’s face but seeing it was something entirely different than hearing about it.

“I need to cut his face off. Are you alright?” Arya worried, taking Dany’s face into her hands.

Dany nodded then hugged her tightly.   
“Thank you. What is your plan?”

“I’m going to get you out of here as Bronn. Jon and Tormund are here too.”

“Jon is here?” Dany asked, her heart now beating twice as fast.

Arya nodded. “We have to hurry.”

 

 

It was strange seeing Bronn standing before her, alive and well, and knowing that it was not Bronn at all. The voice, the body, everything was Bronn. She shook her head to try not to think about it too much, since it would only lead to a headache.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes” Dany nodded.

They walked out of the tent, her hands hidden underneath her cloak, so the people would not see that she wasn’t chained anymore. The camp was big, people walking around and sitting by fires, giving her disgusted looks. She was thrown back in time, feeling just as she did when she had arrived in Winterfell. People looking at her like she was a foreign whore.

They walked a while, already at the end of the camp, no people in sight, when a group of men walked into their way, coming out from a tent. “Where are you taking her?” one of them asked, suspicious look on his face.

“Get out of the way, King Bran said I could have my fun with her, and I won’t say no to that.” Bronn’s voice said with so much confidence, it made Dany shiver a bit.

“King Bran said to have her unharmed and untouched” the man remarked.

Arya was getting restless, Bronn’s legs moving forward a bit. “And I have gotten word from him which said that I could do as I please. So, get out of my way.”

The man narrowed his eyes, tensing up. “We have gotten no ravens since we left. So how did you get word?”

Dany took a deep breath, about to say something when she saw the grass behind the men move suspiciously. The sun was already rising so she could make out two people slowly walking towards the group of men standing in front of them. _Jon, it must be Jon!_

“I really hate to do this but…” Arya mumbled, drawing her sword. Then, Dany saw Jon and Tormund leaping forward, cutting two men down. Arya, or rather Bronn, jumped in front of her, then put her sword right through the throat of the man who had been talking to them. She was surprised how not one man had time to scream before being killed, all three working fast and silently, trying to not draw in the attention of the people sitting by the fires further away.

“Dany,” she saw Jon right in front of her, grey eyes looking at her with such intensity.

He walked over to her and took her by the hand. “We need to get out of here.”

It was the first they had touched time since he had stabbed her and all she felt was her body catching fire. He was changed, somehow. She felt it, deep inside her. Something had changed.

He led her into the woods, Tormund and Arya behind her. He did not let go of her hand even when they reached the woods.

They all ran through it, Dany panting, cradling her bump.

 

 

Ghost was sitting next to the river, looking up to the sky when they slowed down, apparently having reached the spot they were running towards.   
Dany bent over, trying to catch her breath.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked worried, hand on her back.

“I’m fine,” she said, standing upright, hands still on the bump. She turned around to see Arya’s face again, putting Bronn’s face into the bag hanging on her shoulder. She was still wearing his clothes, but it was her body underneath.

She saw Tormund looking at her with a worried look. “You sure you’re alright?” he inquired.

Dany nodded, now looking at Jon, who’s eyes were softer now. He had cut his hair and beard, looking just like when she had first met him.

She could sense Drogon’s presence and looked up so see him dive through the clouds, landing rather clumsily. Jon and Tormund quickly took a few steps back while Drogon leaped forward, stopping just inches before Dany’s face, purring.

Dany’s heart filled with gratitude and love and she put her arms around his snout, burying her face into the side of his face, right underneath his eye.

“He sounds like a fucking cat” Tormund laughed. She smiled and let her hands trace over his scales, feeling the heat underneath.

Then, she checked to see where he had been hit again and saw a wound on his neck, the bolt most likely just having grazed it.

“We need to get out of here. Can he fly?” Jon wondered, a serious look on his face. She did not know how she should feel seeing him here. She had left him in the north, thinking she would never see his face but now that she saw him, she felt relieved. No matter how hard she tried, she could not just stop loving him, even after all that had happened.

“He will have to, I’m afraid. But not too far, he really needs to heal” she muttered, wondering if Drogon would let all of them on his back, now that he was hurt. Especially the man who had murdered his mother. She was not sure, but curious to find out.

She nodded to Arya to let her know to get onto Drogon. While she was climbing on, she saw Tormund getting excited. “Can’t wait to ride that thing again” he growled in excitement, walking past her to get onto Drogon. She heard her son growl in annoyance, but he let both onto his back.

“Am I also to get onto his back?” Jon asked.

She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I can not just leave you here. You can try. I cannot swear that he will let you, though.”

Jon nodded, a smirk playing around his mouth. “I guess we have to see what happens,” he looked over to his wolf. “Ghost, follow us on the ground.”

Dany quickly got onto Drogon, seating herself in front of Arya and Tormund. Arya looked at her with worried eyes. “Please don’t let Drogon kill him” she whispered.

“I won’t ask Drogon to carry someone he does not want to carry. He will judge Jon’s intentions and we will see the result” she replied.

She looked down and saw Jon slowly getting closer to Jon and could feel a storm of rage building up inside her. No, it’s Drogon that is feeling rage towards him, she noticed.

Drogon let out a deep growl, baring his teeth as Jon advanced towards his shoulder.

“You know me, Drogon. I won’t hurt your mother again, I swear” he announced, looking serious.

He held up his hands as if to show Drogon that he would be no threat and almost reached the shoulder when Drogon snapped at him, missing him by just a hairsbreadth.

Surprisingly, Jon did not jump back but rather leaned forward, putting his hand on Drogon’s snout.

“Shh,” he whispered, “Let me on.”

Dany felt Drogon’s anger simmer still, but she knew he would let him on. Jon slowly climbed his way up, looking at them.

He looked a bit confused and Dany whispered: “Go and sit behind Tormund please.”

Jon nodded, looking a bit disappointed but followed her request.

“Now, where do we go?” Arya asked behind her.

Dany thought about it for a second, but she knew that there was only one place where they would be safe now.

“I think we need to go back to the Iron Islands.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it! Next chapter is going to be Jon. There is going to be a lot of jealousy in the next chapter and some good converstations between Jon and Dany!


	13. Shall We Begin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany, Arya, Tormund and Jon arrive on the Iron Islands.

**Jon**

They arrived on the Iron Islands midday, Theon’s sister and some of her men were already awaiting them. He watched as Dany embraced her with a hug, narrowing his eyes at how familiar the two looked. It was not Dany’s friendliness that made him suspicious but rather Yara ogling Dany as if she was madly smitten by her. Which of course made sense to him. Every person with working eyes was instantly smitten by her.   
“You brought the bastard with you?” she gasped, taking a step towards him. Jon watched Dany as she held Yara back.   
“Leave him be” she commanded. Dany looked at Yara with serious eyes, making sure Yara understood that this was a serious command. Reluctantly, Yara took a step back and nodded. Jon did not like her. He wasn’t sure if it was her calling him a bastard or if it was her being too friendly towards Dany, but he did not want to look at her more than he’d have to.

 

He was sitting in his room, legs twitching, wanting to get moving. Dany had told everyone that she needed a hot bath and had asked Arya to help her with it. He had wanted to have a chance to talk to her before, but she had been avoiding his gaze. Now, he wanted nothing more than to look her into her eyes and tell him that he wanted to be by her side.

He was nervous about how she might react. Would she forgive him? Would she allow him to stay by her side? He let out a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

I have to be determined, he thought. He got up and left his room, walking towards her chambers. He had seen Arya disappear in said room earlier, so it had to be Dany’s. He looked at the wooden door and remembered the night on the boat to white harbor. It pained him to think about how wonderful it had been, just the two of them, without worries, sleeping in the same bed every night. Telling each other stories and kissing each other’s faces, laughing. He knew this time, it would not be the same, but he knocked anyway.

“Come in” Dany said softly.

He opened the door slowly, eyes facing the door instead of into the room. When he turned, he saw Dany sitting on her bed, only wearing a night gown made from thin black material with red detailing, combing through her hair.

“Forgive me I thought you were- “he mumbled, looking down. He felt like he had intruded her privacy.

“Jon,” she interrupted, sounding surprised. “Why are you here?”

He cleared his throat and looked up at her, stunned at how perfect she looked, sitting there, the light of the candles warming her face.

“I think we need to talk,” he said, trying his best to sound the way he wanted her to see him: bold and strong. “I would like to explain th- “

“I’m sorry, Jon” she choked, now standing, hands intertwined in front of her bump. He raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her words. He was stunned at her apology, not having expected an apology.

He felt his mouth open, but he could not form any words. She smiled sadly and walked around the table, standing so close, he could smell her. The familiar scent of summer, fire and the sea. Jon felt his body burning yet again, felt how every muscle in his body wanted to touch her, to feel her soft skin underneath his rough hands. She looked up at him, her eyes so soft, it made him feel weak.

“I am truly sorry for everything that has happened. But I think we should not talk about the past anymore. The past has nothing for us Jon. But the future has.” She took his hand and placed it on her bump and Jon could feel something move inside. Faintly, but there was movement. Stunned by Dany’s willingness to let him touch her, he felt tears filling his eyes. It was a truly intimate moment, his hand on her bump, feeling their child. He could not help to smile, getting down on his knees, putting the other hand on the bump as well.

“Can you feel her?” she whispered, looking down at him.

“Her?” he questioned, smile widening.

She nodded, eyes squinting. “I want to name her Lyanna. After the woman my brother started a war for, after her grandmother.”

Jon felt hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He was not sure if he had ever been this happy before. _Lyanna._ Right in this moment, Jon was sure he was going to die. No one can live and be this happy, he thought. But as he looked at Dany, he knew that he had her to thank. Not only was she pregnant with his child, she had also allowed him into this very moment.

“Thank you” he cried, trying not to sob in front of her. She pulled him up by his hands, taking his face into her small hands.

“I don’t care about what you did in the past and I ask you to do the same for me. We have both learned from it. Grown from it. I can feel that you are changed. I feel it.”

He let out a breath he had been holding, now smiling. He truly had never met a woman like her. He had killed her, and she was ready to forgive him.

“But swear to me, Jon. Swear to me that you will never betray me. Swear it by your mother” she said, chin held up a bit. He could not explain why but seeing her so queenly all of the sudden made him love her even more. Her fierceness made him want to pin her against the wall.

He got down on his knee, looking up at her.   
“I swear that I will never betray you. I swear it by my mother” he declared, fire in his voice.

She looked down at him, then motioned for him to stand. Once he did, she stepped even closer to him. “And I swear that I will never betray you too. I swear that I will never ask anything of you that might bring you dishonor” she whispered, her breath grazing his mouth.

He felt something stir deep inside of him, something animal like. Was it the wolf or the dragon? He did not know. Maybe it was both. But he wanted to have her, to show her just how serious he was about his vow.

With a dry throat he watched as Dany stepped back.

“I don’t think you would ever ask anything of me that would bring me dishonor” he stated, confused as to why she stepped back.

“And what if I say we must fly to Winterfell to kill your sister? What if I say we must kill Bran?” she challenged, walking towards the table, where a map was laid out.

He walked over to her, looking at the map. “It would not bring me dishonor, Dany. Sansa and Bran bring nothing but shame upon the stark name” he spitted, thinking about how he had wanted to kill Sansa right away. And now he knew that Bran had wanted Dany dead, even though he had to have known that she was no threat.

She frowned, surprised by his words. “What do you think we should do then? About this whole situation? I wanted to go to Essos, and I still do. But I fear Bran is not likely to just let me go without trying to kill me again, first.”

Jon nodded in agreement, balling his hands to fists.

“I don’t see how we can get you to Essos without fighting Bran and Sansa. But I think we need to ask Arya and Tormund for their thoughts as well.”

She smiled, hands on the table. “I agree. We will meet in the morning and talk about the future, then.”

Dany looked at the door and Jon knew she was asking him to leave her. He wanted to talk to her more, but he could see that she was exhausted. With a nod and a smile, he left the room, not sure if she maybe had tested him to see if he would respect her boundaries or if she maybe had wanted him to ask to stay. Either way, he made his way to his chambers.

 

The hall had a big table made from stone in the middle, a large map of Westeros on it. It was held in place by heavy stones on each corner. He was surprised to see the new Prince of Dorne standing at one end, bored look on his face. On the other side, Yara, arms crossed in front of her body, eyes following through the room until he stopped next to Tormund, who had been waiting for him.

He looked around at the guards scattered throughout the room and found nothing but weathered faces with grim looks on their faces. The Iron born were not the kindest looking people. The door opened and everybody’s head turned towards Dany and Arya walking in side by side. Daenerys was wearing a red thick dress, a black furred cloak around her shoulders. Her hair was put in one single braid, hanging over her shoulder. Arya looked at him with a grin on her face and he wondered if Dany had told her about their conversation the night before.

He saw Yara bow her head, then watched as the prince stepped forward, taking Dany’s hand into his own and placing a kiss on it. He rolled his eyes, wondering if anyone would mind if he cut off his head.

Dany did not seem to mind too much, as she smiled politely. “And you are?” she asked, looking rather surprised.

“My name is Maron Martell, your Grace” he smiled, letting go of her hand to step back next to the door.

“Ah, the Prince of Dorne. Please, do call me Daenerys. I’m not here to be your queen,” she explained, stepping to the head of the table. “I need you all to know that I am not here to take the Iron Throne. There is no need to call me ‘your grace’ or to bow before me.”

“With respect, Daenerys, but what is the plan then?” Yara asked, brows raised.

“That is why we are gathered here. I must plan, and I ask you for your thoughts” Dany replied.

“You say that you do not want the Iron Throne. That is fair,” Maron said. “But Dorne wants its independence. The King has already asked of me to send him all my armies to fight you and that is why I am here. I will not give them to him.”

Dany sighed, and looked over to Arya who seemed to know exactly what Dany needed.

“She is not here to fight your war. Daenerys must get back to Meereen, where her people are. We can not risk her giving birth here, while Bran is trying to kill her.”

Jon swallowed and looked at Dany. He thought about how much time had passed and saw how big the bump was. It wouldn’t be much longer.

“Would she even make it to Meereen in time now? How far along are you?” Yara asked politely, looking worried.

Dany thought about it for a second then answered “It should only be a couple more months. Maybe less.”

“That’s enough time to get you to Essos. Both of your safety is the most important thing right now” Jon advised, hoping that she would agree. No war was as important as her and the baby’s health.

“She will have to go something about Sansa Stark and the King first, if she ever wants to make it” Yara rasped, looking at him with disgust. “Your sister is no less of a threat than the King.”

“I know that” he barked at her; jaw clenched. “I agree with you on that.”

“What do you mean?” Arya asked.

“I think we have to go to Winterfell and take it back from Sansa. If we take it back, we might gain the support of the Northmen and will have a safe place for Daenerys to give birth.”

Arya frowned at that and he knew why. She was conflicted about taking Winterfell from Sansa and knew it would mean either imprisoning her or killing her. He had thought about it for a while, wondered what Ned Stark would have done.

“I don’t think we’ll get their support if we kill their Queen” Arya mumbled, looking at Dany as if she was begging her not to do it.

“Sansa wanted to have me thrown in a cell, Arya. She would have killed me if it had been the only way not to get words to Daenerys” he noted, watching as Arya nodded slowly.

“I know. But still,” she sighed, “she is our sister. We should throw her in a cell, but we shouldn’t kill her.”

“We could make her bow to you, making you King in the north again,” Yara offered.

“No. They did not like me as King, not in the end. I gave away the north to Daenerys and they have not forgotten it. Sansa gave them their independence” he admitted, the sting of the truth still hurting. He had made the right choice and had saved all of them with Dany’s help and still they did not accept his decision. It was easy for Sansa to be loved by them even though she had not done a single thing to save them from the dead. It had all been thanks to Dany and know the Northmen were cheering for her as if she herself had killed the night king.

“The Northmen would never support you if you throw their queen into a cell,” Yara jeered, “What do you think will they do after you put yourself in the position of king again? They will march south to the aid of Bran Stark.”

He knew she was right. “What if we go to Dragonstone?” he questioned, now looking at Daenerys. She took a deep breath and looked down at the map.

“I’m sure they will have taken it by now, since it would be the first place I would go.”

“Agreed. I don’t think Dragonstone is safe for you, Daenerys” Yara sighed, putting a hand on Dany’s arm. It would have been a pleasure for Jon to cut it right off, in front of everyone. “But you can always stay here until you have given birth. We have the iron fleet, the dornish army and your dragon here. They won’t have a chance against us here.”

“I think we should take her up on the offer,” Arya advised “But we also need to take out Sansa and Bran. Otherwise we will be stuck here forever.”

Dany seemed tired, eyes closed and frowning. “I did not want to wage another war. I just wanted to come here to get closure and go back to Meereen without ever hurting anyone. But apparently there is no way around it if I ever want to leave Westeros. I will help you to get rid of Bran,” she looked at Yara and Maron, “But I will not sit upon the throne. I ask you to agree to what I wanted to do when I did take it, a while ago. My plan was to give each kingdom their independence and in return they allow their people to vote for their leader, instead of it being a birthright. I wanted to form a council where the seven leaders of the seven kingdoms would meet and discuss important matters. I will go back to Meereen once this is achieved.”

He looked around the room and saw surprise and confusion in the faces of everyone but Arya. Jon did not know that this had been her plan all along. She had never told him about that, only that she had wanted to break the wheel.

“Aye. I agree. Our people already choose their own leader anyways” Yara smiled, then looked to Maron. “What about you?”

The man nodded. “I agree to the terms.”

“Very well,” Dany beamed, a determined smile on her face. “But we will not shed blood where it does not have to be shed.”

Jon nodded. She was born for this, he could tell. It felt like she had caught fire now, looking over the map, eyes open wide, ready to get to work. She looked up at everyone and asked: “Shall we begin?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy moly you guys im so excited for whats to come!!!!


	14. Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Council meeting and some Dany and Jon cuteness

**Daenerys**

“We take Winterfell, and then we take King’s Landing?” Yara repeated, forehead creased.  
“Do you have an alternate approach to offer?” Maron wondered, walking around the table to put a piece of stone, caved like the sigil of his house, next to Winterfell.

“Why do we need Winterfell? If we go to King’s Landing right away, Sansa will send her men there and we can fight them as well as Bran’s army together.”

Dany looked over to Jon, to see what he thought of the plan. She respected his thoughts on the matter, knowing that he always tried the bloodless route. He met her gaze and nodded, ever so slightly. “We need to take Winterfell to show that we are serious about taking the kingdoms back from Bran. The people who fight for him need to see who they are fighting against. And if we put me into the position of King in the North again, some of Sansa’s men might decide to join us instead of following Sansa to their death.”

She was surprised by his words, since she knew he had never wanted to be king. “So you want to be the King in the North?” she wondered.

His expression hardened; hands firmly placed on the table. “I see no other option. If we want to try to persuade people rather than killing them, we need to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Arya chimed in: “The old-fashioned way?”

“Aye. We need to form an alliance.” His eyes met hers and she suddenly realized what he was saying. She felt a wave of emotions well up in her, having thought about marrying him a lot before she had taken King’s Landing. She had even been close to suggesting it to him until he had found out about his parentage. Dany had never had any problems with him being a Targaryen, but she had painfully witnessed that it had been a problem for him. And now he was suggesting marriage?

Everyone was waiting for her reaction, Yara was clenching her jaw, obviously annoyed by his suggestion. Dany cleared her throat and was about to answer, but Arya was faster. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Jon’s mouth twitched as if to try not to smile and he winked at Arya. Dany narrowed her eyes and looked over at Yara and Maron, who both looked slightly annoyed by the whole situation, Yara even more so. “I don’t like the idea” she simply stated, the muscles in her jaw twitching.

Dany knew that Yara had a soft spot for her in her heart and saw right through her comment. “How would an alliance help against Bran?” Dany challenged, almost smirking.

Jon pressed his lips together before he answered. “I think we send a better picture as a united force. Ned Stark’s son with Daenerys Targaryen against their common enemy.”

It sent shivers down her spine to see Jon so determine and king-like. He still assumed the role of Ned Stark’s son which wasn’t lost on her, but she understood that he used the title to win the North’s support.

“You’re also pregnant with his child” Arya chimed in, as if she was about to marry them to each other right then and there.

“And you want to come to Meereen with me once this is all said and done?”

Jon’s face lit up and she wondered if he was surprised that she would offer for him to come to Meereen with her. “If you’ll have me, I would love nothing more.”

She nodded, trying not to show how happy she was to hear him say those words. “Alright then. Before we finalize our plans,” she took a deep breath and nodded at Arya, who handed her a scroll. “we have to wait for one of the red priestesses to arrive. I have gotten word from Kinvara that one of her best priestesses is currently on her way to us, to shield us from Bran’s powers. She is supposed to be here within a week. Until then, we speak no word of any plans, not to anyone.”

“And when should we get ready for a wedding, then?” Tormund asked with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Tomorrow” Dany said calmly.

 

 

Arya held the scissors in hand, standing behind her. She glanced at her through the mirror, worried look on her face.

“Are you sure?” she questioned. Dany looked at herself and thought about all the times she had wondered if she would still be considered beautiful without all her hair. The braids were meant to show her strength and she had not cut them after being murdered. She had held on to them almost as if to hold one to a false idea, that she indeed had not lost all her strength. But by dying, she had. She had lost Jorah, Missandei, half of her army and had lost the trust of Tyrion and Varys. She had lost a lot and had kept her braids. But now, she was faced by another war. One she did not want to wage but had to anyways. She had thought of every other possibility but for her own sake and the one of her child, she had to get Bran off the throne.

_To go forward you must go back_

She remembered Quaithe’s words and it sent shivers down her spine. She had to start new and for that, she had to cut her braids.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Cut them.”

Arya hesitated for a second but started cutting off braid after braid. Dany felt a weight lifted, almost as if all her sins and mistakes were cut away. One by one the braids fell into her lap and she took one, carefully, and brushed over it with her fingers. She smiled sadly and thought of Drogo and how she used to wear little bells in her hair back when he was still alive. She did not want to see herself in the mirror until Arya was done, scared she might find herself looking grotesque. Somehow over time tales of her beauty had spread throughout Westeros and Essos and she sometimes wondered if she would have been more respected if she had been bad looking.

“Done,” Arya said. “I actually like it better.”

Reluctantly Dany looked up and found herself looking somewhat older, wiser. Her long hair had always given her a sweet and childish look, but now her hair was cut right before her shoulders. She looked at her face from every angle, putting some of the hair that had found its way into her face behind her ears. It was still very thick and looked rather wild, she found.

“I like it,” she smiled, collecting the braids in her lap and put them in a wooden box. “I think I want to keep them.”

“Now we kind of have the same hairstyle,” Arya laughed, pointing to her hair. “Do you want to leave it like this, or should I call in one of the handmaidens to braid it?”

Dany shook her head softly and leaned back into the chair, eyes on herself in the mirror.  
“No, I think I will just pull some of the hair into a small braid to keep it out of my face,” she signed. “Tell me Arya, what do you think about all of this? Of what we will have to do?”

The young girl sat down in the chair behind Dany and brought her fingers to the spot between her eyebrows. Dany turned her chair to sit opposite to her, interested in Arya’s thoughts.

“Well I won’t lie. I’m not looking forward to having to fight against Sansa and Bran, but I agree that they need to go. I’m not sure yet how I feel about you fighting here again, not because of what you have done but because you’re doing it for others, not yourself.”

Dany raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean? I’m doing it so that we can leave for Essos.”

Arya gave her a small smile. “Dany, we both know that that’s not the only reason. You always seek to help people and you want to help Westeros even after what the people here did to you.”

Sometimes Dany wondered if Arya could see through everybody so easily or just her. She admired Arya for many things, but she seemed to know her so well, she sometimes found it odd. She had not even wanted to admit it to herself yet but somehow the girl had already known it. The liberation of Essos was still her most important goal but after having seen that Bran had attacked her even though he had to have known about her intentions… it made her think that he had planned her downfall and the death of thousands all along. If that was indeed the case, he was a threat to the realm, obviously not caring about the people too much. And, as he saw everything, no plan of people seeking for independence would ever be accomplished. Dany thought of Sansa and her hateful prejudices against her and her people. She had shown her nothing but disrespect even after she had helped her and had actively participated in her downfall. How could she leave Westeros in the hands of such people? Even if the people here hated her, she could not let them suffer underneath the wheel, once again.

Maybe it was the bad conscious after what happened in Kings Landing or maybe it was just her incapacity for injustice, but she wanted to help.

“If I don’t help, who will?” she asked softly, letting her fingers weave through her hair.

“Above all, you’re a rescuer,” Arya stated. “And that is why I decided to stay by your side. You mean well, always. But Dany, you must be a dragon to take down Sansa and Bran. Even if you are afraid of it. I know you’re afraid of it. But you have to be” she declared with a strong voice.

Dany pressed her lips together, surprised by Arya’s words. She knew she was right, but when she thought about it, she was scared. She did not want to be a monster; she had always wanted to plant trees.

Dragons plant no trees, she remembered. A dragon was a creature to fear, with big teeth and hard skin, breathing fire. And what had she done, when she had embraced it? Killed thousands of innocent people, destroyed a city. But she had been alone, and now, she was not.

“You are right,” she whispered then, seeing Arya’s face painted in hope. “But I will do it differently this time. A dragon I will be, but with a wolf by my side. And I’m not just talking about Jon.”

Arya beamed, nodding fiercely. “You have my word. I will be by your side, always.”

 

 

She was walking through the halls of the castle, her cloak around her shoulders, wondering if she would ever not wear it. The weather on the Iron Islands was harsh and windy and she felt like she knew why the people here always looked so weathered. Dany had told Arya to stay in the castle because she felt like she needed some time alone. She wanted to check on Drogon and see how his wounds were healing.

Secretly she hoped to maybe walk into Jon’s arms. She had been thinking about him almost all day since they had met in the morning. Anxiety had eaten away at her since she had agreed to wed him the next day and she asked herself if it had been the best decision. The sun was now about to set, the sky painted in a beautiful orange. She found the castle here to be beautiful, but at the beginning she had looked at the castles that stood upon barren islands high up in the air, connected by rope bridges, with worried eyes. But she had grown fond of it, loving the idea that the massive castles stood atop of something looking rather fragile.

She saw Drogon in the distance and set out into his direction.

“Dany?” his voice made her mouth curve into a smile. She turned around to see Jon, walking towards her, heavy breath as if he had run after her. He stopped in front of her and a line appeared between his brows. “You cut your hair” he blurted.

“Arya did,” she said, “I feel much lighter now.”

He smirked. “It suits you.”

“Have you come after me to flatter me then?” she asked while turning around to keep on walking towards Drogon.

“No,” he confessed, walking besides her now. “I wanted to talk to you about this morning.” She had a hard time trying not to smile, pressing her lips shut. It was entirely obvious that he had other reasons as well. Jon had always been a terrible liar.

“Is that it? Well, you can accompany me to Drogon then.”

When he had sworn his loyalty before her the night before she had very much liked to just rip his clothes off and ask him to show her how much he meant it, but she had felt like it would have been too soon. Dany was keen to forgive but she did not want to seem like she was quick to let him back to her side as well. It was hard to find a balance, but the burning desire for him was there, overwhelmingly growing second by second.

He followed her until they reached Drogon, who was licking his wounds.  
“My poor Drogon,” she whispered and walked to his wound, which was still not healed. It was deep. “I wonder if I should ask one of the Maesters here to take a look at it.”

She heard Jon chuckle and turned around at the sound. It had been a while since she had last heard him chuckle and it made her laugh, bringing back wonderful memories.

His eyes gleamed, looking at her like he did back in the past. She cleared her throat and felt Drogon nudge her back softly, almost as if he was pushing her towards Jon.

“How are you feeling considering everything that is going on?” he asked. She walked towards him, stopping an arm’s length in front of him.

He looked beautiful in the light of the sunset. “I’m alright. It seems like we will have reason to be overwhelmingly happy tomorrow, since we are to be wed.”

Jon smiled and for the first time in forever, she felt like she could actually be happy. His eyes were a soft grey, almost like liquid smoke. He looked genuinely happy too, looking at her with the same fondness as before he had found out the truth about who his parents were.

“Aye. Seems like it” he purred, putting an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She felt drunk all of the sudden, feeling him so close to her.

“And you don’t mind that we are of the same blood?” she whispered, scared of what his reaction would be. But she had to know that he was alright with it.

He looked down at her lips and took a deep breath. “You are my family, you will be my wife, and I will love you until the end of time. I think destiny has brought us together,” he breathed. “It held me back in the past but now I’m ready to embrace it. Fuck everything and everyone else, as long as I get to be with you.”

She felt tears forming in her eyes but before she could say anything, his lips grazed hers gently, almost as if asking permission. All she could do was open them ever so slightly, blood beginning to boil as their lips met. His hands held her face as he opened his mouth, as if to devour her right on the spot, tongue teasing hers. She put her hands into his curls and pressed herself into him, wishing to be consumed by him.  
He pulled back softly, his forehead against hers. “I love you” he whispered, his breath tickling her lips.

“I love you” she answered as she bit her lower lip, wanting more. He smirked and kissed her cheek.

“Let’s go get a Maester for Drogon.”

She looked at him, half smirking, half crying. “You kiss me and pull away? Do you want to torture me before you call me your wife?” she gasped.

“I want to be honorable. And I won’t bed a woman before I marry her,” he joked, now walking ahead of her. “Also, I want it to be special. And waiting makes most things special.”

She rolled her eyes and followed him, feeling like a young girl again.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its happening you guys. I know this has been a slow burn but what can i say, i love slow burns. GET READY!  
> I also had plans for Dany to cut her hair for a long time but waited for the right moment. It feels right to me, as it shows a new beginning for her. Hope you guys liked it!


	15. The Lord of Storm's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya helps Dany to get ready and meets an old friend

**Arya**

 

In the midday of his wedding day, Arya and Jon were standing at the edge of the cliff right by the castle overlooking the sea. The wedding was to be held by sundown. They were watching a few ships coming towards the shore, the Baratheon sigil on the sails. Arya felt a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, wondering if Gendry would be angry or just indifferent towards her.  Yara had told them that she had sent word to Gendry to come to the Iron Islands weeks ago to see if he wanted to join in their quest to cast Bran down and gain their independence back.

“Why are you so tense?” Jon asked, glancing at her.

She shrugged her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “I never thought I would see him again.” Jon’s brows drew together. She realized that he had never seen the two of them talk, and probably did not even know that both knew each other.

“You two know each other?”

She pressed her lips together, eyes still on the ships. “We do. Gendry and I met a long time ago, when I had to flee King’s Landing. He was my friend. Then we came upon the brotherhood without banners and they sold him to Melisandre.”

Thinking of Melisandre always made her angry but now, she just stood there, wind blowing into her face thinking about how the past was the past and how Melisandre had helped them from the dead.

“Yes, he told me about what she did to him,” he said. “Did you spend much time with him in Winterfell then?”

The corners of her mouth quirked up and she met his gaze. “I did. He wanted me to be his lady.”

Jon’s mouth fell open as the confession took him by surprise. “His lady?” he blurted.

She nodded, cheeks reddening. “Yes, his lady. I refused because I wanted to travel the world and well, because I just don’t see myself as a lady.”

Jon did not know what to do with the information, just starring at her, mouth wide open.

“You like him, don’t you?” he noticed. Her smile faded slowly as they heard people approach them. It was Yara, wearing her usual riding trousers and a woolen tunic, hair whipping into her face as the wind was increasing.  

“Lord Gendry Baratheon will be here shortly. Daenerys asks for your presence to help her get ready” she said with a nod to Arya.

She looked at Jon and smiled. “Are you excited to get married to the dragon queen?” she asked.

Arya was no fool, she could see how excited he was, barely able to stop smiling. He nodded and took her into a tight embrace. “I’m glad you will be here to witness it.”

She hugged him tightly, happy that we would be with them from now on, happy about him and Daenerys finding each other again, happy for the child who will grow up with both their parents present.

They looked at each other one more time, then Arya followed Yara to the castle.

“Why didn’t Dany send someone else? I would not take you for someone who brings people messages,” she wondered out loud. Yara smirked and gave her a once-over.

“I’ve heard so many storied about you and we never got to talk, I wanted to get a chance to do so, so I asked Daenerys if I could go and get you.”

Arya was surprised, having never felt like Yara had any interest in her. “Which stories?”

“That you killed the Night King. That you are one of the finest fighters in the kingdoms and that you were taught by the faceless men.”

Arya gave her a half-smile. “All of those things are true” she stated simply.

Yara raised her eyebrows. “You don’t sound all too proud,” she noticed.

“Why would I be? I was trained well; I did what I had to do,” Arya shrugged, “I heard a lot about you too. I always thought I could never be a lady just because I am not lady-like, but you are a Queen, and you don’t strike me as someone lady-like either.”

Yara laughed a short but genuine laugh and scratched her head. “Aye. I don’t give two fucks about wearing nice dresses and sitting with my back straight and a smile on my face. But I’m still a queen. I mean, look at Daenerys. She rides a fucking dragon, had liberated many cities, and she still is a queen. Sure, she looks queenlier than us two with her beautiful dresses, but she still wears her riding trousers underneath. You can be both, a lady or a queen **and** a fierce warrior.” Her words made sense to Arya and she felt understood by Yara. Her whole life she had searched for a place in the world, not really fitting into any role.

After spending so much time with Dany, she had noticed how she always walked on the line between the fierce and strong warrior and the diplomatic, calculated queen. It was no easy walk, that much she knew, but somehow Dany could always make it work. She admired her for it and wondered if she could ever pull it off as well as she could.

“She is an extraordinary woman,” Yara continued, now looking into the sky as if lost in a daydream. “Walked out of fire twice, unharmed, brought the dragons back to life.”

“It seems like you would rather marry her yourself than watch her marry my brother” Arya blurted.

Yara’s expression closed up and she cleared her throat. But before she could say anything, they were interrupted by some of Yara’s men who wanted to talk about the wedding feast. Arya dismissed herself and walked through the castle halls to Dany’s room, wondering when Gendry would arrive at the castle, knowing that he had to ride from the harbor to it first. Would he come to see her immediately? Would they even have a chance to talk before the wedding?

She tried to shake off the thoughts and knocked on the door, Dany’s voice asking her to come in.

Dany was sitting in at the table, reading an old book, a plate with bread and cheese next to her. She looked up and smiled, pointing to one of the chairs at the table.   
“Arya,” she swallowed the piece of bread she had put in her mouth, “sit down, I want to talk to you.”

Arya followed her command and stole one of the bread pieces, nibbling on it nervously. She could not stop thinking about Gendry, even now. Had he found a lady by now?

“Gendry will be here shortly,” Dany addressed, smirk on her face. “Are you nervous?”

Arya remembered that she had told Dany about him and about their night together before the big battle of Winterfell. She had enjoyed being able to tell someone about it, never having told it to anyone else. She had felt like Sansa would have judged her for it or that she would have pushed her to agree to his proposal. Arya could not decide which would have been worse.

“I am,” she admitted, looking at the piece of bread in her hand. “Do you think he has a lady by now?”

Dany shook her head softly. “He comes by himself, with some of his men. No lady was mentioned to me.”

Arya felt her shoulders relaxing, letting out a breath she had been holding without knowing it. Dany’s nose crinkled as she put a piece of cheese in her mouth. “You’re happy to hear that,” she noticed with a grin. “Would you rather find him and talk to him than help me get ready? I can call for some of the handmaidens here, I would have no trouble with it.” She seemed genuine but Arya wanted to be there for Dany on her wedding day. Even if that meant having to wait a bit until she could see Gendry. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say to him, anyways. She hadn’t changed her mind. She couldn’t be his lady, especially now that she had sworn Daenerys to follow her to Meereen once they were done here. Still, she longed to see him, speak to him.

She cursed herself for not being able to cast him out her thoughts.

“No,” she said, “I want to help you get ready. We should get started soon. I’ll call for the tub.”

 

 

She was combing though her wet silver hair and wondered if her child would have the same hair or if it would have Jon’s darker hair. A smile crossed her face when she imagines a sweet little child with silver curls, a perfect combination of her parents, with grey eyes like her father. She was done fast with the shorter hair, putting some of the oils they had brought with them into Dany’s hair. She had always hated combing or braiding her sister’s hair because she had always made her do it. But she enjoyed it now that she wasn’t forced to do it. At first the handmaidens had always taken care of it, but one day, Arya had asked Dany if she could try it. She couldn’t quite explain why she had wanted to try it, but at the end, she thought, it must have been the silver of the hair. It intrigued her so much, wondering if it would feel different than other hair. She had been somewhat disappointed to find out that it was just like all other hair, but somehow it brought her closer to Dany, as they always had interesting conversations while she worked the knots out of her hair, so she kept on doing it, with a smile on her face.

She watched as Daenerys slowly got out of the tub, looking more pregnant than she had ever before, round bump wet from the water and oils. Arya hurried to put the linen rope around her.

“Do you want to have it in a braid?” she asked as Dany sat down in the chair in front of the mirror.   
“Maybe a single one, the hair that otherwise would fall into my face,” Dany thought out loud, grabbing the two thick strands of hair on either side of her head. Arya nodded and took them out of her hands, beginning to braid it carefully.

“I have to warn you, I’m not good at braiding” she confessed as her fingers got to work.

“I have faith in you, Arya,” Dany chuckled as she looked at her through the mirror’s reflection. It took a bit but after a few failed attempts, she put the two braids into one at the back of her head, using a piece of thin leader as a tie. She stepped back to look at her art piece and found it looking rather wild, not like Sansa used to do it: neat and perfect. Still, she was proud.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I found some flowers outside and I thought you might want to put one or two into your hair. Their color reminded me of you.” She carefully took the flowers out of her pocket in her cloak, deep scarlet flowers with black spots in the middle. She watched as Dany’s eyes widened in awe. “Oh, Arya they are beautiful,” she squinted her eyes and smiled, taking one of them into her hands. “You could put them into the braid, if you want to.”

And so she did. After a few minutes, three flowers on each side graced Dany’s braid and Arya found that it somehow looked like a crown. The deep red stood out against her silver hair and pale skin. She noticed Dany looking at herself with the corner of her eyes crinkling.

After that she helped her into the dress that Yara had given her. It had been made by the women of the island, just for the wedding. It was a dark blood red, loose around the belly, stopping right at the end of her feet, made from thick material. It was close fitting above her waist, hugging her breasts. At the shoulders it changed into a black dragon scale pattern, all the way down her sleeves, which went down to her wrists, made from lighter material.

Arya stepped back and looked at Dany in awe.

“You look beautiful!” she whispered.

With a smile, Dany turned around to the mirror. “This is my third wedding. I hope it will be my last.”

“Does this remind you of your other weddings?” she asked.

Dany shook her head slightly and let her hands run over the material of her dress.

“No,” she laughed, “Not at all. With Drogo, I never exchanged a word with him until our consummation and with Hizdahr zo Loraq, well, I did not care for him much.”

“And you care for Jon?” Arya questioned softly. She knew that Dany loved him, but she was still wary about the situation.

Dany looked at her suspiciously. “Of course I do. Why do you ask such a thing?”

“I just want to make sure that you have both forgiven each other and are not just marrying because of the convenience of war. I want you both to be happy” she said, frowning.

“Is that what you fear?” Dany smiled, walking towards her. “I have forgiven. The past is the past and there is no use in dwelling on it. I have forgiven many people, Arya. What use is it to hold onto the past?”

She knew that Dany was telling the truth. She had never forgiven a man who had killed her, and she wondered if that made her weak or strong. But seeing Dany forgiving her brother, who was truly haunted by his actions, she felt like Dany was the strongest person she had ever met.

 

 

It was only a short time until the wedding ceremony and Dany had sent her away so she could see over the preparations and to get her once it was time. They had talked over who would give her away but Dany had just waved her hand and told her that she would not want to be given away since it always seemed strange to her.

They had prepared a place right outside the castle for the ceremony and the feast would be held inside, with the hall being prepared for about a hundred people. It had to be small, Dany had ordered, since she did not want it to be expensive. Arya watched as some women carried big candles into the hall when she spotted Gendry talking to Yara next to the huge fireplace at the head of the hall. He was wearing an outfit fit for a Lord and his hair had grown out a bit.

She felt excitement grow in her stomach as his eyes met hers. He gave her a smile, before excusing himself from the conversation with Yara.

“I’ve heard you’re here,” he said as he stopped before her, hands intertwined behind his back. “My lady” he bowed his head with a half smirk on his face. But his eyes were nor moving, showing that the smirk was not honest.

She frowned and bowed her head too. “My Lord” she said, an honest smirk on her face.

Now his face shifted, showing a real smile. It seemed that he had not been sure how she would react to see him. The worried look disappeared from his face.

“So you are the commander of the Queensguard?” he asked. “I thought you wanted to travel the world.”

“I thought so too,” she admitted. “But now I will help Daenerys. I have sworn to stay by her side and with a woman like her, I don’t think I will ever get bored.”

He nodded in agreement and watched the on goings of the room.

“Are you enjoying being a lord?” she asked.

“I still don’t know how to use a fork properly, but I can’t say that I mind living in castle. Storm’s End is massive.”

“So I’ve heard,” she muttered, “I’m glad that you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be the wedding!


	16. From This Day, Until The End of my Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys get married

**Daenerys**

 

The sky was a soft blush, orange streaks waving through it, without a single cloud in sight. She saw Jon standing there, on the cliff, against the sky, in his nicest northern outfit. He looked like a King, she thought, as she was walking towards him. There were about ten people there, all dressed in their best, looking at her while she made her way towards them, all by herself. She thought that it would make her say, walking down to Jon on her own. She missed all the ones she had lost, dearly. But somehow, she knew that she had herself, and that would always be enough. She heard Drogon roar sweetly in the distance and she smiled then.

Another ten steps and she saw Arya, a big smile on her face. The people had formed two groups on either side, with Jon at the head of it.

As she walked to Jon, she saw how the corners of his mouth turned up, eyes glossy. She wondered how different this would have been if they had done it back at Dragonstone, or even Winterfell. She would have had Jorah give her away, Missandei would have helped her get ready, smiling and laughing about how wonderful it was that she would get married.   
She swallowed, pushing away the pain and sadness. Today is a happy day, she thought, I get to marry the father of my child.

Jon reached out his hand and she took it. He led her to stand right in front of him, his grey eyes warming her heart. She wondered how grey eyes could ever look warm. Maybe it is the fire behind them, she thought.

“You look beautiful as always” he whispered.

 

_“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger._

_I am hers and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”_

_“…I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”_

The words sounded so sweet in her ears as he spoke them and she spoke them back, a promise she intended to keep. She felt his love with every single word and was filled with gratitude and awe when she thought about how this was the first wedding she had looked forward to. This man she so dearly loved looked at her with admiration and love in his eyes, and she felt like there could be nothing more wonderful. She watched as Arya stepped forward, white fur in her hand which she handed to Jon. He presented it to Dany. She noticed that he was intending to drape it around her shoulders and turned around slowly. With awe she buried her fingers into the fur once he put it around her. Her eyes filled with tears as she understood how meaningful it was. Jon, her white wolf, gifting her with this fur, showing to everyone that she was his.

When she turned, he wrapped one arm around her softly, the other cupping her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her so gently, she felt like it might actually be a dream. Drogon’s roar filled the air and she could do nothing but smile when she felt her child kick inside her, as if she was answering her brothers roar.

 

 

The feast was held inside, people talking loudly, laughing, eating, dancing. Dany and Jon sat at a table overlooking the other people, hands intertwined. Arya sat besides Dany, laughing at a joke that Gendry had made. As Dany looked through the room she felt at ease, seeing the people around her happy and content.

“Am I the King of Meereen now?” Jon wondered with a grin on his face, bringing his cup to his mouth.

She turned her head to him, eyebrows raised. “Hmm,” she hummed, “You are.”

“I look forward to seeing the city. I have heard many great things about it” he said, leaning towards her, almost whispering into her ear.

“What have you heard?” she asked with a smile on her face.

“That their queen is fierce and beautiful,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. “And that it is the largest city along the Bay of Dragons.”

She nodded and looked into his eyes and saw something that made the hairs in her neck stand up. They were filled with hunger, looking down at her lips. She took his face into her hand and dug her fingers into his lose curls as she placed an innocent kiss on his lips.

He leaned into her more, wanting to deepen the kiss, but they were interrupted by Arya.   
“Seven hells can’t you two wait a little longer?” she joked while rolling her eyes.

Dany smirked and turned her attention back towards the others, while Jon let out a breathless laugh.

 

 

After an appropriate time had passed, Dany could not wait any longer. She had felt the tightness between her legs and knew that she would not be able to sit still any longer when she had declared that they would now be going to their chambers. The people had cheered and laughed, holding their cups up into the air.

She did not care about any of that, though. She had felt Jon’s heat as he grabbed her hand and as they walked through the room to her chamber.

The door was not even closed when she felt him push her against it, making it fall shut. She could feel the fire in his body as he pushed himself onto her, carefully trying not to put too much weight onto her bump.

His warm breath fell upon her face as he kissed her deeply, his tongue forcefully taking what was his. Dany felt him everywhere, his whole presence filling her whole perception, taking his hair into her hands as she kissed him back with passion.

“Dany” he whispered in between kisses. His hands got rid of the fur draped across her shoulders, and swiftly opened the laces of her dress. She helped him, with shaking hands and felt her dress fall onto the ground. He let out a surprised breath when she saw that she was completely naked underneath. She smirked as she took in his face, surprise and lust shimmering in his eyes. With a deep growl he kissed her again, his hands running along the sides of her body. She closed her eyes and suddenly felt his fingers running up her left thigh slowly until they reached the spot between her legs, making her suck in the air sharply.

“Get onto the bed” he demanded. She nodded, breathlessly, and followed his command, lying down on her back, watching as he undressed himself slowly.

He did not break eye-contact, eyes dark and narrow, looking down at her. Once he was naked, he grabbed her by the hip and dragged her to the edge on the bed slowly but with force. She watched as he knelt, and her eyes widened when she realized what he was planning to do. Dany felt like she was on fire, every inch of her body longed for this man, wanting him to take her. His eyes were still locked with hers and he took her legs and gently placed them on his shoulder, lowering his head.

She shut her eyes with a moan as she felt his mouth on her, his tongue dancing on her sex, making her arch her back. She dug her fingers into the furs beneath her as he filled her with his fingers, his thumb on her clit. Dany’s heart started racing, her moans getting more intense as she placed on of her hands on his curls, legs shaking under the pleasure.

“Jon” she moaned. He continued and she knew she was close, but she could not wait any longer. She wanted to feel him inside her. “Jon!” she said, serious.

Jon’s head suddenly arose, her wetness shimmering on his lips. He looked at her for a moment, then stood, his manhood throbbing with lust. The sight made her shiver and she slowly grabbed him by the shoulders, making him understand what she intended to do.

He laid down and she slowly put her legs around his waist, hand on his manhood to guide him into her. With a breathless moan, she took him in, feeling utterly whole. She looked down to his face and saw that he was feeling the same as he drew his lower lip in between his teeth.

“Fuck” he muttered as she started to ride him, slowly first, then faster. She felt her peak slowly coming, tingles dancing up her legs. With a growl, he sat up, one of his hands on her back pressing her into him, kissing her deeply. Suddenly he turned her so that she was on her back once again, thrusting himself into her with such a force, she felt like she was about to split open. “Yes” she moaned, as she felt his finger on her clit, rolling her hips against his. It was too much for her and unable to control any sounds that left her mouth, she screamed his name as she came, body shivering, clenching around him as he spilled his seed into her with her name on his lips.

 

 

“No,” he said sharply, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “There is nothing good that can come out of this.”

Yara nodded, arms crossed in front of her chest. “I agree with Jon.”

They were sitting at the table, Sansa Starks scroll placed in the middle. Dany had wished her first day of being married to be filled with love, laughter and tenderness, but the reality had caught up, in form of a scroll from the Queen in the North. She had sent a scroll demanding for them to come to Winterfell, to talk about the situation at hand.

“Does she really think of us as fools?” Jon asked angrily. Dany stood and listened as the people around the table discussed what to do, trying to stay calm. Sansa Stark was a fool if she thought that she would lead the people here to their certain death, as Dany was sure that it was a trap. It made no sense to her, as she knew that Sansa was smart. She knew that they would never agree to come to Winterfell to discuss anything.

“Why would she ask us to come to Winterfell? She can’t possibly think we would do such a stupid thing” Arya said, frowning. “If we go there, we will die. I’m sure that the walls of Winterfell are already decked with scorpions. There will be an army waiting for us.”

“Aye. That’s why we will not agree” Jon said.

“We should ask her to come here,” Dany declared. Confusion painted the faces of the people around her as she continued. “We will tell her to come here. Sansa is not stupid. She knows we would never agree to her demand and she is counting on it. Then she can claim we had not wanted to negotiate, which makes it easier for her to paint us as the enemy. But if we ask her to come instead and she doesn’t agree, we can say the same.”

“And how do we explain why we will not come to Winterfell? We can’t just come out and say that we know she plans to kill us. We need a reason for us not to be able to go there” Yara pressed.

“I could give birth at any given moment. I won’t be able to travel to Winterfell,” Dany explained, smile on her face. “Let Sansa know that she is to come here. If her precious Winterfell is dear to her heart, she should not make me want to burn it down.”

She saw Jon nod with a proud look on his face. Arya’s eye darkened but she nodded as well. Dany knew how much Winterfell meant to both, but she hoped that they both knew that she would not burn it down. But hopefully, Sansa would believe her bluff.   



	17. The Blood of the Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys, Jon and Arya receive a scroll and someone surprising makes an entrance...

**Jon**

 

Ghost was sitting beside him, head placed on his lap, his fingers brushing through the white fur gently. It had been an hour, and Daenerys was still sitting next to Drogon on the ground, furs beneath her, hands stroking the great black dragon. She had told him to stay away, because she needed time with him alone. He had agreed but told her that he would stay close by, not wanting to leave her side.

She looked unreal sitting next to the greatest dragon that had ever lived, and he was uncertain how it was possible that the wounded dragon had seemed to grow ever so slightly since they had arrived on the Iron Islands. She looked like a mere child next to him, if not for the big bump.

“She is going to give birth any day now” Arya said beside him. She had also insisted on staying close and the both had sat down on some rocks. Drogon had made himself a nest of burnt sheep bones a bit away from the castle and they had had to ride out a bit to get there.

“I look forward to seeing my daughter,” he smiled, “But I am also scared.”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” she wondered.

“I don’t,” he laughed, “But Dany does, apparently” he said as he watched Daenerys slowly getting on her feet, taking a bit of time to do so. Drogon laid his head down onto the ground with a loud purr.

“Maybe she’s wrong and it’s going to be a boy.”

He shook his head lightly. Daenerys was laughing about something and the sound made him smile. It almost looked like she was whispering to Drogon, laughing with him about things Arya and him would never get to hear.

“This woman is heavily pregnant and is laughing with her son who is a dragon,” he smirked. “I think its not too weird to think that she knows that our child is a girl.”

Arya smiled at him, but he could see sadness behind the smile, her forehead creased.

“What is it?” he asked.

She held up the scroll they had gotten from Sansa just before they had headed out to watch over Daenerys. The seal was unbroken, as Arya had wanted to wait until dawn to give it to Dany. She seemed so content out here with Drogon, laughing away all the worries she might held.

He sighed as he took it into his hands, letting it fall from one hand into the other, almost as if he was trying to weigh it.

“What do you think she wrote?” he wondered.

Arya shrugged and closed her eyes, mouth set in a hard line. “I don’t know.”

It had been a time since they had sent the raven with their message and he knew that it was complicated for Arya, now that it was about Winterfell. He would have no problems to kill Sansa, after all she had done, having spared her one time. _If she so much as dares to threaten Dany, I will kill her myself,_ he thought while he thought about how she had looked at him with disgust back in Winterfell.  
“Would you be able to kill her?” he asked. “If she ever threatened Dany’s life?”

He watched as his sisters’ eyes opened slowly. “I thought about this a lot lately,” she admitted. “But I feel like she is not the same Sansa anymore. She is a blend of Baelish and Cersei. She has spent so much time with both, how could she not have learned their ways? But if father or mother could see her now…they would be ashamed. Utterly ashamed.”

There was so much sorrow in her voice, even desperation. He would never make her kill Sansa; he swore himself. He would do it himself, should the situation ever arise.

“You never used to like her,” he reminded her with a sad smile. “But you should not have to kill your sister. I will do it. I do not want you to be a kinslayer.”

She looked at him as tears filled her eyes. His sister looked thankful but sad, nonetheless. He put an arm around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. They stayed there for a while, arm in arm, until Dany send Drogon into the air and made her way to them. Her eyes shimmered with love when she looked at them both, but her face changed as she saw the scroll in his hands.

“It’s from Sansa,” he said as he handed it to her. “Should we go back inside to open it?”

“No,” she decided with a serious look on her face. She opened it with steady hands and read it aloud.

 

_“To the Mad Queen Daenerys Targaryen,_

_I will come and visit the Iron Islands because I want to keep the peace for the people of the North. I will come to discuss the problems at hand. I trust my sister Arya Stark and know that she would never lead me into a trap._

_Sansa Stark, the Queen in the North”_

She rolled her eyes. “Wonderful,” she seethed as she turned around to walk back to their horses. Jon and Arya stood up and followed her as she continued. “So, in her eyes I’m mad and she also intends to manipulate the situation by leaning on Arya’s honor and love?”

Jon swallowed and looked to Arya; whose facial expression could not be read. The anger about her words was ringing in his veins, but he knew that Sansa’s words must have been harsher for her. “If I did not know better, I would say Cersei Lannister wrote it” he muttered.

“I won’t be manipulated by her” Arya said suddenly and both Dany and Jon stopped walking.

“I know you won’t Arya,” Dany said softly, putting a hand on Arya’s arm. “But I’m afraid for your wellbeing. If she will constantly remind you of your family bond, it will not be pleasant.”

“It won’t be pleasant anyways. It will be hell. Sansa is smart and she knows how to manipulate anyone and anything. But her weakness is that she thinks of herself as smarter than she is Arya said.

“Most people do,” Dany sighed. “Pride and arrogance are the reasons for most people’s downfall. It will be hers as well.”

 

 

“Do you think she will be born soon?” he asked as he slowly let the hot water, he had cupped in his hands wash over her arm.

“I don’t think it will be long now” she breathed. They had started to bathe together almost every night and it was the thing he looked forward to the most. She sat in front of him, her back against his chest, hands on her bump. He kissed her neck once, twice, then started to massage her shoulders gently.  
“Do you think she will have your lilac eyes?” he wondered, picturing a silver haired girl with lilac eyes, just as beautiful as her mother. He never thought that he would father a child and it had always filled him with sadness.

“Hmm” she purred. “I want her to have your eyes…like liquid smoke.”

The laid there for a while, just embracing the silence of peace, holding onto each other and placing kisses here and there.

“Do you think Arya will be fine?” she asked into the silence, her voice brittle.

“Arya has suffered a lot worse than having Sansa around,” he whispered, putting the hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear. “She will be fine.”

“Do you think we should still take Winterfell?”

He drew his head back in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

Daenerys slowly turned her body so that she was sitting opposite him, the big tub having enough space so another person would have fit in there easily. “It is a place that means a lot to both you and Arya. I do not want to be put in a position where I would have to burn it.” He saw a shimmer of doubt in her eyes.

“You will not have to. Once Sansa comes, she will soon realize that it is in her best interest to bend the knee to us and give Winterfell to us. She will not want to wage a war against all our combined forces. You won’t have to burn anything.”

She nodded slowly, eyes looking down at her bump. She caressed it gently and whispered: “I want our child to grow up in peace. As soon as I am recovered from the birth, I want to get this over with as soon as possible. We need to go back to Meereen.”

He pressed his hand onto hers. “We will, love.”

Dany took his face into her hands and kissed him gently, then slowly got up. He helped her out of the bath and put one of the silk robes around her. He walked over to their bed to grab his shirt, when he heard her let out a sharp breath. When he turned around, she looked at him and he saw the expression of her face shift, her eyes narrowing.

He felt a sudden wave of coldness wash over him as he realized that something must be wrong. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

“Get the Maester,” she whispered, eyes on the ground. He followed her gaze and saw a puddle of water at her feet. “I think it’s time.”

 

Drogon’s roars were shaking the whole castle, intertwining with the screams of his mother. Dany laid on her bed, hair clinging to her wet face, panting and yelling alternating. He was holding onto her hand but had never felt more useless in his whole life as he watched the love of his life scream in pain. Jon was sure that Drogon was about to claw his way into he the room, as his roars were getting louder and louder.

“Just a couple more pushes, your grace” the Maester said calmly.

Jon strokes over her head and kissed her cheek, wondering if she was even noticing it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I love you.”

She pushed again, screaming louder than he had ever heard a human scream. He looked at her and wondered if there had ever been a stronger person, a woman that had walked through fire twice, and brought back the dragons. And she was about to birth another one, their daughter, _blood of the dragon_.

With one more push, a powerful cry rang in his ears. He looked to the Maester and saw a small newborn in his hand, a head of silver hair.

“It is a girl, your graces” the old man proclaimed as he was about to hand it to one of the women to clean her up.

“No,” Dany cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Give her to me.”

The Maester nodded and placed the crying babe onto her chest. Jon watched as his daughter fell silent as soon as her skin touched Daenerys and felt his eyes watering. As he looked down, he saw everything that mattered to him. Dany put the child to her breast and their daughter peacefully started feeding. Dany let out a wonderful chuckle and looked up to Jon, a wonderful smile on her face. She looked exhausted but in a way that made her even more beautiful.

“Lyanna,” she whispered as Jon leaned in to brush his lips against hers. “Lyanna Targaryen.”

He felt the tears running down his face, but he did not care. Daenerys had given him a reason to become a better man, had given her a daughter and her love. He kissed her forehead and thought about his mother Lyanna. _Would you be proud of me, mother?_

He looked down at Lyanna, her small hand fiercely holding onto her mother’s finger, eyes closed peacefully.

“She is perfect” Dany whispered as she nuzzled Lyanna’s head.

“Just like her mother” he said as he carefully stroked her cheek with his finger.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was wonderful to write... i hope you liked it!


	18. Northern Visitor

**Daenerys**

 

She had spent the last week seeing a change in the people around her and in herself with her daughter being born. Suddenly, everyone lit up once she entered the room with her in her arms, wanting to catch a glimpse of the silver haired child, wanting to touch her soft, chubby cheeks. Arya had been especially enchanted by Lyanna, always whispering into her ears and pressing her lips to her forehead. It had taken a couple of days before Dany had allowed anyone to hold her besides Jon and herself, fearing that Lyanna would be taken from her, somehow. But now she was grateful for the many hands that held her, seeing how much the people loved her daughter made her heart feel lighter.

Lyanna was wrapped in the white fur Jon had gifted her for their wedding, light grey eyes set on her face, hands dug deep into the fur. Dany had decided that it was time to introduce Drogon to his new sister, accompanied by Jon and Arya.

Drogon was already waiting for them, eyes glued to the little bundle in her arms as they walked towards him. Dany could not stop smiling once she heard her son purr softly as he stepped forward to greet them.

“Drogon, meet your sister Lyanna” Dany said with glimmering eyes as he lowered his head and sniffed Lyanna carefully.  
She could sense his wonder deep in her soul and chuckled when he tried to touch her but realized that he was too big. He turned his head sideways so he could see her better. Dany put one of her hands on him, the other tightly holding Lyanna.

She could feel the emotions welling up inside her, never having thought that this moment might happen. Even while she had been pregnant, she had scared that the baby might be still born, just like Rhaego. But Lyanna was real, and she was curiously eyeing Drogon.

“He loves her,” she said softly as she looked back at Jon and Arya, both smiling. “It pains me to think that she will never have a dragon of her own.”

“She will be able to fly on Drogon, won’t she?” Jon asked with a frown.

Dany shook her head lightly. “Not by herself. A dragon has only one rider,” she said. “If Viserion had not died, he could have been her dragon.”

Arya stepped forward with a sad smile and motioned to take Lyanna and Dany handed her to Arya carefully.

“Come Lyanna, let’s talk to Drogon some more” she whispered as Dany walked to Jon, lump in her throat.

He took her in his arms and stroked over her head as they watched Arya with Lyanna. She could cry again, as she had been so many times for the last week. The emotions had been all over the place since giving birth, making her more sensitive than usual. But seeing Arya with her daughter, standing in front of a smitten Drogon was reason enough to cry, she thought.

 

 ~~

“My name is Riyanha, your grace. I am delighted to be of service” the dark-haired woman in the red gown said as she bowed her head. She had piercing blue eyes and a heart shaped face, certainly a beautiful woman.

Dany, with Lyanna in her arms, sat at the big table in the hall, Jon to her right, Yara to her left. The priestess had arrived in the early hours of the day along with five other priestesses and Davri and Nahhi, her handmaidens. Dany had not wanted any of her armies to join her in the fight in Westeros, as they had been through too much war in the last months already.

“I thank you for coming here, red priestess. I heard that you will be able to help us against the three-eyed raven?”

The woman nodded, the dark curls dancing around her face. “Indeed. I will be able to shield you from his sight, as long as you stay close to me, your grace.”

“How close do we have to be to be shielded?” Jon asked, seemingly not too pleased.

“Our combined magic will be enough to shield the castle. As soon as you set foot outside of it, the three-eyed raven will be able to see you again.”

Dany nodded and looked over to Yara who looked not too pleased. “And you believe that these women can do that?” she asked Daenerys, eyes narrowed.

“I know it,” she declared. “When I was brought back to life by Kinvara, their magic kept me a secret until I left Meereen.”

Yara nodded reluctantly. “Alright then. My men will escort you to your chambers. Anyone helping us will be treated as friends.”

The priestesses bowed their heads and followed the iron born out of the room. Davri and Nahhi both smiled at Dany and came closer when Dany waved them over.

“She is beautiful khaleesi” Davri said in dothraki as she stroked over the silver hair. Dany smiled widely and nodded. “Yes, she is. I’m so glad to see you both. I hope the journey was not too harsh.”

Nahhi crinkled her nose. “The poison sea makes me sick, but it was worth it.”

Dany chuckled and asked two of the men to show them to their chambers as well.

“Your grace,” a man entered the hall, panting. “A ship with the stark banner has arrived on the Iron Islands.”

Dany sighed and looked over at Jon, who clenched his jaw. “I thought this would be a nice day,” she mumbled as she stood up. “Seems like it will not be so nice after all.”  
“It will take some time until she arrives” Yara said, turning to some of her men now. “Please get this room ready. I want this table clean and chairs pulled to either side, one at the head. Get some food as well.”

 

~~ 

 

Dany had not wanted Sansa to see her daughter, feeling like the presence of Sansa alone would harm her child, so she had given her to her handmaidens while her, Jon, Arya, Tormund, Maron, Gendry and Yara were all waiting in the hall. Yara had insisted for Dany to sit at the head of the table, while Sansa would sit at the other end. The atmosphere was somber as they sat at the table, waiting for Sansa to arrive. Jon had put his hand on hers, eyes full of love but even that could not lighten her mood enough to smile. She had dreaded this moment for weeks now, thought about every outcome possible and not one single one made her feel at ease.

She was not sure what she could expect, but at least with the red priestesses here, she knew that Bran would not be able to see their conversation. The door opened slowly, and she saw the tall woman, dressed dark grey, enter the room. She was escorted by about ten northmen, all with suspiciousness in their eyes. Some of them narrowed their eyes when they saw Jon, she noticed. Sansa’s face was as cold as the north itself, not showing any emotion as she stopped just before the table, arms crossed behind her back.

“Lady Stark,” Daenerys said, raising an eyebrow. “Please sit.”

Sansa pursed her lips as she sat down, eyes growing colder by the second.

“It is Queen Sansa Stark,” she corrected. “not Lady Stark.”

“I hope your journey was pleasant” Dany said, ignoring her previous comment.

Sansa leaned forward in her chair, putting her elbows onto the table. “I regret to see that you are actually alive…I was hoping it was all just a lie. But here you sit, the Mad Queen who murdered half of King’s Landing.” Every word cut through the air like ice spears, but Daenerys did not feel any coldness. _I am fire made flesh and your words won’t put out the fire within me_ , she thought. Arya suddenly rose, hand on the hilt of her dagger. “Watch your words or I swear Sansa, I will not hold back.”

Sansa’s eyes widened just the smallest bit, betraying her. Dany almost smiled when she realized that it was shock that painted her eyes.

“It is the truth,” Sansa said once she had regained her cold composure. “And now you plan to kill our brother Bran? So you can finally sit upon the Iron throne?”

Dany did not answer, instead she looked to Jon. She could see how hard his face had grown and knew that he would have had no problem to kill her right then and there. His mouth was a hard line, hands balled to fists on the table.

“I do not want to kill your brother,” she said finally. “I also do not want to have the Iron Throne. I don’t know what your brother had told you, but it appears that he has not told you the truth.”

She watched as Sansa’s arrogant expression shifted to confusion just for a second. Dany had to admit, the woman had been hard to read in the past, but somehow, she felt like she could see through her better now. She wasn't sure if it was because Sansa was all alone while two of her family members were at her side or if it was just that Sansa was not used to not getting whatever she wanted but whatever it was, Sansa's facade was crumbling.

“And I’m sure that is what you made Jon and Arya believe. But I know a tyrant when I see one, and they are usually good manipulators,” she sneered. “Doesn’t take much to get Jon on your side, I bet, but how did you get Arya to believe your lies?”

“Shut your mouth,” Arya growled. “You don’t know anything! You are one of the finest manipulators I know. Does that make you a tyrant then?”

Sansa looked at her with disgust. She opened her mouth to say something, but Jon was faster. “If you do not mind your tongue, I will cut it out myself. I make no empty promises. You were my sister once, but those times are long gone. One more word against my wife and you will pay for it.”

Dany felt her blood boil at the sound of his harsh voice and something deep inside her came to life whenever her husband let out his darker side.

“I think we should try to speak with each other in a peaceful manner,” Dany stated informally. “Why don’t you enlighten us as to why you wanted us to come to Winterfell?”

“It’s rather easy. King Bran wants you dead, or at the very least, your dragon. You are a threat to the kingdoms and your very existence is keeping up every person in Westeros awake at night, scared of when you might come to burn them alive. King Bran and I want your allies,” she looked around at the people sitting at the table. “to bend the knee once again to him, to swear that they will not try to gain their independence.”

_Killing Drogon? Do they think I would give my son’s life for the safety of mine?_

Dany watched as Yara laughed dryly. “If you think that any of this will happen, you are a fool.”  
“Neither my wife nor Drogon will die,” Jon growled. “And is it not pathetic that you, the Queen of an independent north, demand that Queen Yara and King Maron should stop pursuing their independence?”

Dany watched at Sansa shook her head with a resentful look on her face. The words must have cut deep, Dany thought. “The North has sworn never to bow to…”

“Never to bow to a southern King, aye,” Jon interrupted. “And not even to one that is a Stark? How is it that you demanded independence even after your brother, the last trueborn son of Ned and Catelyn Stark, sits on the throne?”

“Bran knows how important it is for the north to be independent” she hissed through her teeth.

“It must have been horrible for you to get crowned the Queen in the North,” Arya jeered, leaning towards her sister, hands on the table. “That is all you ever wanted. To be the queen. You got there eventually, with help from your mentors who taught you just how to get there. Cercei and Baelish would be proud.”  
Sansa looked at her as if she had just been accused of burning King’s Landing herself, mouth gaping open, brows drawn together, perplexed.

“How dare you,” she snarled. “I have done what I did to protect my people.”

Dany scoffed at her words. “Oh? When have you protected your people, if you do not mind me asking? Was it you flying on a dragon burning thousands of the army of the dead? Was it you that brought the biggest army the world had ever seen? Was it you that fought for her life outside the walls of Winterfell?”

Sansa did not answer.

“We will fight your brother. We will fight you, if need be. All of us, we will fight until every kingdom is independent. Then the people will choose their own leader, who will meet with the other leaders of the kingdoms in a council so that the wheel will be broken” Dany tried to say the words with as much force as she could, hoping that Sansa would see that she was no evil Mad Queen. Dany did not like Sansa, but she did not want to have to kill her either. It would send the wrong message to the kingdoms. The Mad Queen killing the loved Queen in the North was not something that the people would cheer for. It would only deepen their hatred towards her.  
It confused her, because she knew that Sansa was not stupid. Yet, she held onto her believe that she was here to kill everyone, it made Dany questioned whether Sansa was just scared. Scared, that she might have been wrong about her.

“And that is why you follow her now?” Sansa asked with a disgusted look on her face, looking at everyone but Dany. “You actually believe her? This woman wanted to conquer the seven kingdoms not too long ago! She wanted to rule over them and now you believe her that she will just let us all live in peace?”

“I did,” Dany sighed, hand coming up to her temples. She felt tired, tired of having to justify everything she had ever done, tired of having to explain herself to others. “I did want to conquer it, but my plan was always to break the wheel. In Meereen, there was a council formed from people who were chosen. I made many mistakes, Sansa, but I am tired of trying to make you believe me. If you do not believe me, so be it. I know the prospect of not being queen anymore scares you… especially since it has been all you ever wanted. But if the north truly loves you as much as you think, they will choose you to be their leader once we have succeeded with our plan, right?”

A dark shadow laid over Sansa’s gaze as her body tensed up. From the distance, a cry ripped through the air, coming closer. Dany knew the cry immediately and sat up straight. The door to the side flung open and Davri entered, Lyanna in her arm.  
“I am very sorry khaleesi but she won’t stop crying, she needs to be fed.”

Dany held out her arms and took her crying daughter into her arms. She kissed her gently and wiped away the tears with her fingers. Slowly her daughters cry faded away as she felt the touch of her mother.

She looked up at Sansa to see her mouth gaping wide open, looking down at her daughter in disbelief.

“Is she…?” Sansa whispered; eyes still locked onto Lyanna.

Her instinct told her to press her daughter to her body more, shield her from Sansa’s stare but she was intrigued as to why the northern woman was surprised. Had she not believed her when she wrote she could not come to Winterfell because she was pregnant?

“She is our daughter,” Jon said, putting one of his hands on Lyanna’s belly. “her name is Lyanna.”

Sansa abruptly pushed back her chair, the noise of the heavy wood on stone ground so loud that Lyanna started to cry again, this time more loudly.

“You DARE name your daughter after my aunt?” she snapped at Dany. “You DARE name a child of incest, the granddaughter of the Mad King, the daughter of the Mad Queen after Lyanna STARK?”

Before Daenerys could even think to answer, Jon was already halfway across the room, standing right before Sansa. His face was the darkest Dany had ever seen it, fire dancing in his eyes. Everybody at the table was either ready to fight or tense but Jon was ready to kill her, and Dany was not the only one who could feel it.

“Take her,” Jon growled to the iron born soldiers in the room. “Bring her to her chamber and I want two men guarding it at all times.”

There was no love in his voice only coldness. Sansa looked at him at disbelief.

“Am I your prisoner?” she asked.

"Not yet" he said.

Dany knew that he would have rather thrown her into a cell but he was not stupid. He knew that in doing so, he would start a war. They all watched as Sansa was brought out of the room and Dany could still feel the hurtful words. They had hurt more than she had expected, and she wondered if Lyanna Stark would love her grandchild even though Dany was her mother. But she loved my brother, she thought, maybe she would have liked me too. She watched as Arya and Jon exchanged a look that she could only describe as exhausted and then she looked down at her perfect daughter.

 

 

~~

 

_The snowy hills were flying past her, all but a big white blurr. Was she riding a horse? She could not say. All she saw was white hills, snow coming down from the sky, turning into water once they hit her skin…._

_Suddenly she was on the ground, standing in a burnt down circle. As she looked around she wondered what might have happened there. Out of the corner of her eyes there was fire, the flames almost seeming to touch the sky, surrounding her…. Swallowing her. She heard Lyanna laugh, just a faint giggle. Where was she?_

_Daenerys felt the fire consuming her, much like when she had burnt the Dothraki khals, the fire flickering and dancing around her, making her feel powerful._

_Her hands grew heavy then and when she looked down, she saw two eggs in her hands, big eggs._

_  
Dragon eggs, she thought as she tried to bring them to her face. But they were to heavy and slowly she felt her knees weaken. Were they getting heavier?_

_She was not sure._

_Mother……….Mother………..Mother_

She woke in her bed next to Jon, panting. With shaking hands, she looked for her daughter and found her sleeping peacefully next to her. She noticed that she was freezing, something that usually did not happen. The dream had felt so real and she could swear that she still felt the icy wind on her skin, even now that she was awake. It had been a while since she had a dream so vivid.

“Dany?” Jon whispered, only half awake.

She sighed and turned around and felt his beard tickle her as he kissed her gently.

“Is everything alright?”

She nodded and buried her face into the space between his shoulder and his neck, humming. “Hmm. Everything is alright.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was hard to write and also took me a bit since its a lot of talking which is always SOOO hard to write in my opinion. But i hope you guys liked it. Next up will be Arya!


	19. The man who passes the sentence

**Arya**

 

It had only been a mere two days, but Arya felt the tenseness in every part of her. With Sansa here, she had felt nothing but anger, all the time. Her sister was nothing more than Cercei at this point and it hurt her. She knew what Sansa had had to endure at the hands of Cercei and yet, she had become the same. She had been alone for a while, she thought. _And a lone wolf never survives._

Yara had declared that she wanted to kill Sansa straight away, to send a message to Bran and the other kingdoms. Jon had wanted to take her as prisoner to see if Bran would then agree to a meeting of some sorts but Daenerys was adamant on trying to stay peaceful and to find some middle ground with Sansa, but Arya knew Dany well enough to hear her doubts about her own plan in her voice. Dany always seemed to hold back, to restrain herself, to hold her power back, scared that people might see her as the Mad Queen, the woman who sits on a dragon, ready to kill who ever stands in her way. But Arya knew that people feared any power they could not control, and Daenerys Targaryen was certainly a force no one could control, and no one should. Not even Dany herself.

Daenerys intentions were good, Arya knew that, and she still had scars from her past, things she did not want to let happen again. She understood where Dany was coming from, but she also knew the harsh truth: her sister would never get on their side. And taking her as prisoner would not do any good. Sansa had sworn that she would stay peacefully until they had come to an agreement, but Arya was worried still.

It was raining outside, the night sky darker than usual, the clouds hindering any moon light from touching the ground. Arya wondered what Drogon was doing now and if he would just fly up above the clouds, peacefully basking in the moon light. Arya had tried to fall asleep for hours now, but her thoughts kept her awake. Somehow, she had been thinking about Gendry a lot. He had plans to stay until they all set on a plan, but Arya wondered if he stayed because of her. She had not spent much time with him since Lyanna’s birth. With a sigh she sat up and decided to go see if he was awake. She remembered how good it had felt to feel his naked skin on hers, something so strange yet so familiar. Arya had always fancied him, even as a girl, but back at Winterfell she knew she had to end it before it was too late. She had not wanted to deepen her love and admiration for him, fearing that it might lead to her living a life she was had not been ready for. And she still wasn’t, she decided. But it had felt good and the tightness between her legs made her heart race faster. The thought of him kissing her passionately, his hands on her naked skin…

She hopped of the bed and left the room, decided it would do no harm to see if he was still awake. She closed the heavy door gently behind her, as to not wake anyone up. Dany and Jon’s chambers where right next to hers, a bit down the hall and she had to walk past it to get to Gendry’s chambers. The hall was barely lit, just one torch burning in front of every door. The noise of sudden footsteps startled her, and she instinctively brought her back to the wall next to her, making her disappear behind a huge stone pillar. She was not sure why she felt anxiety welling up inside up her all of the sudden, the hairs in her neck standing up. She peeked around the pillar to see Davri, Dany’s handmaiden approaching the door.   
Arya felt her whole body relax and watched as the woman disappeared into the chamber. Dany had probably called her to help her with Lyanna, Arya thought. She was about to walk past the door when she heard a scream from inside and without thinking about it, she had Needle drawn and entered the room, an almost dying fire in the hearth lighting the room enough to make out Davri on the ground, Jon on top of her, hands around her throat. She looked over to her left to see Dany, Lyanna pressed to her chest, eyes wide open. Arya’s heart sunk into her stomach as she hurried to the bed and shook Dany by her shoulders gently, scared to death that she or Lyanna were hurt.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

Dany was still starring at Jon on top of Davri, unable to say anything. Arya turned her head when she heard Jon grunt and saw that Davri had somehow escaped Jon’s tight grip and was trying to cut him with her dagger. Jon dodged it and tried to sink Longclaw into the woman, but she was extremely fast. Arya growled and put needle on the bed. She drew her dagger and jumped the woman from the side, dragging her on the ground. When she looked into the woman’s eyes, she saw something familiar, a blank and emotionless stare. She sucked in a breath and before she could do anything, Jon had sunken his sword into the woman’s throat, blood gushing out as he yanked it back out of it.

Arya sat there on top of the dead woman while Jon hurried to Dany, whispering something that she couldn’t hear. She felt a fear creep up her back as she lowered her hand to the woman’s face.

_It can’t be…_

With shaking fingers, she pinched the face lightly and felt a familiar sensation in her fingers when she pulled them back, the face coming off rather easily. She heard Dany suck in the air sharply behind her and noticed that she was saying something, but Arya could not hear her. The face before her was one of a stranger, but she knew it was a faceless men. It was a young girl, maybe even younger than herself. Her hair was cut as short as hers had been and her face looked almost peaceful now that she was dead. Slowly she got up, eyes still on the girl before her. She knew that Sansa had sent her right away as she had seen her faces in Winterfell and had asked her so many questions, taking in all the information with curious eyes.

“This was Sansa’s doing” she whispered.

“Arya” Jon’s voice made her turn around immediately, horror in his voice. She saw him sitting beside Dany, his arms protectively put around her and Lyanna.

“Go and get Sansa. Take guards with you. Bring her to the hall.”

 

~~

 

 

When the guards opened the door to Sansa’s chambers and Arya stepped in, they found nothing but an empty room. She knew instantly that Sansa had left to get to her ship, to sail back to the mainland and then to flee to Winterfell and hide behind their ancestral home’s walls. She did not know how and when she had fled but it did not matter now. She had to tell Dany and Jon. Arya ran down the halls as fast as she could and once she entered the great hall she was met by everyone. Gendry stood at the hearth with tired eyes, glaring into the fire, while the others where standing around the table, their voices loud.

They all turned their heads towards her and as soon as Jon saw that she was alone, his jaw tightened, and he slammed his fists onto the solid stone table.

“I want every man in this castle to look for Sansa. Send riders out too. I want her here NOW” he yelled.

The iron born guards nodded and left the room quickly, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the room. Yara stepped closer to Dany, who held Lyanna.

“Did she hurt you?”

Dany shook her head. “No. She came in and I was awake but had my eyes closed. I heard a noise and when I opened my eyes, I saw her standing there, dagger in hand. Somehow, I knew what she was about to do and in instinctively rolled over with Lyanna in my arms” her voice was emotionless, almost as if she was still not sure what had happened. “She wanted to kill Lyanna. Her dagger sunk into the spot Lyanna had been laying just split seconds before I had rolled over.”

Arya pursed her lips in disgust. “I’m going to kill her.”

“No,” Dany said. She walked over to the bassinet that had been placed next to the hearth and put Lyanna in it. Yara moved closer to it, eyeing everyone in the room, almost as if she was ready to kill whomever dared to come to close to Lyanna. Jon looked at Dany with confusion. “I will. I’ll find her on Drogon.”

“No!” Arya and Jon said at the same time.

Dany looked at them with fierceness and Arya knew that she would do it no matter what.

“Dany, I will do it. She tried to have our daughter killed. Find her but bring her here. I will do it.”

Arya watched as both exchanged a long look. Dany seemed adamant to do it herself, but Jon’s eyes promised that he wanted to kill her. Not because he had to, but because he _wanted_ to.

Before anyone could speak, the door flung open and a man entered. She immediately knew who he was: Daario Naharis. He had a cheeky smirk on his face as he laid eyes upon Daenerys.

“My Queen. It has been a while,” he greeted as he went down on a knee. “I have brought you a gift. We stumbled across a lady at the harbor who seemed like she was fleeing… with northern guards by her side. I took it upon myself to bring her here.” He stood up and gestured to the door. A handful of men entered, Sansa in the middle of them, mud on her face. She looked like she had fallen into the dirt several times, her hair was a mess. One of the men pushed her forward and she took a few steps forward, her lower lip trembling.

Dany stepped forward; eyes wide as she looked at Daario. It seemed like she was thinking of what to say to him, but she then turned her attention to Sansa who was eyeing her with disgust. Jon suddenly walked across the room with a fast pace and dug his fingers into Sansa’s throat.

Sansa gasped in surprise, her thin fingers scratching Jon’s in horror, trying to free herself. She took a step back and almost tripped over her dress. Arya watched as Jon’s dark eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched as he watched Sansa’s mouth open and shut, as if she was trying to say something. Suddenly Dany put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, which made him release her throat with a growl. Sansa fell onto her knees, a hand on her throat as she coughed and gagged.

“Take her outside,” Dany hissed to Daario. “Yara, please hand me Lyanna.”

Arya watched as Daario nodded with a grin on his face. He motioned for his men to take her outside and one of them yanked her up and dragged her outside.

She turned around to Dany, Lyanna in her arms, a fire burning in her eyes. Her face did not show anger, madness or fear. There was nothing but determination and disgust.

 

 

~~

 

 

The sun was about to rise, the air still smelled of the rain that had disappeared just minutes before. Sansa was on her knees before Dany and Jon, blank stare into the distance, as if she was trying hard to look indifferent.

“I would to it again,” Sansa whispered. “I only regret that it failed. I will go down in history as the Queen who tried to save the realm.” Arya heard that she believed the words she was saying, a hint of proudness in her voice.

Jon pursed his lips in disgust. “You are not to speak. You tried to kill my wife and my child; you will not have last words.”

Sansa smiled sadly, lowering her head. Arya wondered if she was thinking of their father, a shiver running down her spine when she thought about how he had been beheaded too.

An unwelcome wave of sadness crushed her, thinking of how she had tried to stop it from happening, the sound of Sansa’s screams still ringing in her ears. She felt sad to be here, to see her sister’s death but she knew that this woman had not been her sister for a while now. She looked at Jon to see if he had any hesitation in his eyes, a spark of doubt about what he was about to do, but she found them looking as determined as Daenerys’.

“I, Jon Snow, of the Houses Stark and Targaryen, King of Meereen, sentence you to die.”

Arya pressed her lips together when he slowly drew Longclaw. She looked at Sansa and noticed that she was shaking ever so slightly. And then, with one fast swing of his sword, Longclaw hit the ground, and so did Sansa’s head.

 

~~

 

Barely anyone had touched their food. Dany seemed exhausted and kept on closing her eyes, while Jon massaged his temples every now and then. They had decided to have a private meal, just the three of them. She had been thankful for it considering that she still felt like she could smell Sansa’s blood in the air. After her head had hit the ground, Dany had immediately embraced Jon in a hug and then her without saying any word. Arya remembered how Daenerys had watched her brother die once and remembered how Dany had told her how she had not seen him as her true brother just moments before he died. And sometimes, she still missed him, at least that’s she had told her.

As Arya looked down at the bread on her plate, she felt the sudden urge to cry. Not because she missed Sansa and not because she was sad about her death but because she hoped that her mother and father would forgive her.

“We should head for Winterfell as soon as possible,” Daenerys whispered, eyes still closed. “With Sansa gone, we need to get there before anyone else claims it.”

“Aye,” Jon said. “Will Drogon be able to carry all four of us?”

Dany nodded slowly, opening her eyes. “He’s completely healed. We should leave tomorrow. I don’t feel save here anymore. Daario has brought the second sons to help us. I did not know he was planning to come here but it seems like I owe him thanks.”

Arya raised an eyebrow but did not say anything. She knew Daario well enough to know that he came here to see Daenerys and he would not react well to seeing her married to Jon. Her brother leaned back in his chair and looked over to his wife.   
“Alright. Later, we talk to Yara and the others and think of how to go about the three-eyed raven. I’m sure he won’t be pleased once he finds out about what happened here.”

“Arya, did you know the girl that stole Davri’s face?” Dany wondered.

“No…she seemed really young,” she stated. “I don’t think she had been trained for a long time, seeing that both Lyanna and you are still alive.”

Dany sighed and Ghost, who had been laying under the table, came up to put his head into her lap. She scratched him lovingly, giving him a small smile.

“She wanted me to go mad,” she said. “She knew that if – “

“Dany,” Jon interrupted softly, hand on her arm. “She failed. Lyanna is alive, and so are you. Sansa isn’t.”

“I never wanted to return to Winterfell,” Arya disclosed. “It had not felt like home. But I agree with both of you, we need to get there soon. The northern lords will be eager to put someone else in Sansa’s place and we have to be there before that happens.” She looked over at Jon and he nodded, his mouth set into a hard line.

“Aye. I want us to leave tomorrow morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that a LOT of you are going to be happy that Sansa is finally dead: this one is for all of you.


	20. Winterfell

 

**Jon**

 

 

His cloak lightly brushed the ground as he walked through the hallways of Winterfell, the smell of ash still lingering in the air. There was a somber atmosphere clinging to every inch of the castle, people rushing past him as he entered the great hall of Winterfell. The long, wooden table still stood in front of the hearth, untouched by any of the fighting. The hall was empty and clean, no fire was burning. Jon felt tense as he carefully brushed along the length of the table, emotions of all kinds nearly ripping him apart.

They had taken Winterfell easily, with all their combined armies, the northern men almost instantly surrendered once Drogon had destroyed all the scorpions.  Dany had insisted on only her being on his back once they arrived in Winterfell, leaving Lyanna with Arya, both far away from any fighting. She had landed Drogon right next to the wall after swiftly diving through the clouds, leaving the men who manned the scorpions little time to react. Then, with a swift swoop, his long tail had destroyed all the scorpions at once, leaving the wall intact. For such a huge beast he was swifter than a deer, biting and hissing his way around the walls, sometimes using his huge teeth, sometimes his claws to destroy the huge wooden scorpions. At the end, Jon saw men jumping from the walls rather than trying to use the scorpions. Then, a group of men had charged the great dragon, but all that was left of them now was ashes. After that, most of the northern men had put down their swords.

Jon silently stood in front of the chair he used to sit in, looked out into the hall and remembered the time he had been named king in the north. Now he was a king again, but this time of a city he had never been to. He swallowed hard as he thought about how in a few hours, he would have to face the men who had named him king, this time as a man who had killed their queen. He turned around at the sound of a door opening and saw Arya come in, her head tilted downwards.

She stopped next to him and gently put her hand on his arm. Jon smiled sadly and turned his body towards her.

“We’re home” he said sarcastically.

Arya huffed out a small laugh. “This hasn’t been our home since you left for the Wall and me and Sansa left for King’s Landing.”

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned. “Who will stay here once we go to Meereen?”

Jon watched as his sister pressed her lips firmly together. It pained him, somehow, to know that there would be no Stark in Winterfell, ever again. He remembered the words, burnt into his mind as if he had been saying them himself every day.

  _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._

“Maybe Lyanna wants to have it when she is grown up.” she offered, but they both knew that it would likely never happen. But the thought of his daughter, dressed in a fur cloak and a northern style dress, walking through the halls, made him content and proud. He thought of how Catelyn would have reacted, seeing Jon’s daughter with her silver hair as the Lady of Winterfell. The thought made him smirk.

“Do you think the northern lords will bow to you and Daenerys?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Not at first. But I will drag them out to face Drogon one by one if that is what it takes to make them. I have no patience left. I’m no politician. Either they help us or they die.”

Arya chuckled lightly and walked to the door. “Let’s get them in here then. I would very much like to see that.”

 

~~

 

It was Lord Glover who spoke first, his husky voice cutting through the cold air of the Great Hall. He looked at Daenerys in what could only be described as utter disgust and Jon feared he might have to drag him out to be devoured by Drogon right then and there, even before he had uttered his first words.

“We will not bow to a Targaryen King who murdered the trueborn daughter of Ned Stark, the Queen in the North” he spat and the other lords who had been summoned yelled words of agreement.

“And what will you do then?” Daenerys inquired with one of her eyebrows raised.

He watched as Lord Glover turned to Lord Manderly, watched as the two men exchanged a long and angry look.

“You will bow, or you will die. We are not here to play games, Lord Glover,” Jon barked as he clenched his hands into fists. “Sansa tried to murder my child in her sleep. We offered her food and a bed, and she broke the guest right in return. We wanted to come to a satisfying compromise for all of us and your Queen decided she’d rather murder a babe.”

Lord Glover’s eyes widened, his mouth gaping wide open. The mumbles of the others got louder, discussing the new information they had just gotten.

“You are lying,” Lord Royce barked, standing up from where he had been sitting the whole time. “You can say a whole lot but there are not witnesses that aren’t biased.”

Arya, In the chair next to Daenerys, cleared her throat. “Lord Royce, I was there. I don’t know if you trust my words any more than those of Jon, but I assure you, he is not lying.”

“We do not have to proof to you that what we are saying is the truth. I am done with having to proof myself to any of you northern lords. Either you bend or you break, you can choose your fate yourselves” Dany said with a distinctive harshness to her tone. He enjoyed seeing that side of her and swore he could feel the flames of anger radiation from her body. She looked composed and calm, but he felt the underlying scorching heat of her anger.

Lord Royce stepped forward; his eyebrows lowered. “I would rather die than bend the knee to the Mad Queen. And if the stories are true, you were killed by the man sitting to your left and apparently for a good reason. You should have stayed dead for what you have done. And now you sit here and demand -“

“Take him,” Jon interrupted, his gaze set on Daario Naharis, who was standing at the side of the room, next to him some of his men. The tall man glanced at Dany and when she nodded, he obeyed. “And get him outside.”

The northern men in the room jumped up and yelled out warnings. Some reached for their swords and hissed when they remembered that they were not there, since they had been told to leave them outside with some guards. They had accepted, with no other option given.

As they all left the walls of Winterfell, Drogon was already on the ground, wings spread, casting a shadow so huge, the sun seemed to disappear for a moment. He bent his neck then, lowering his head down as his mother walked forward. She put her hand on his snout before turning her back to him, facing them all.

Daario brought Lord Royce to his knees roughly, right in front of Daenerys before stepping back into the small crowd that had formed. Jon walked past the kneeling Lord to Daenerys’ side, feeling his back heated by Drogon’s breath.

“If you would rather die, my lord, I will happily fulfill your wish. Or rather, he will” Jon pointed his chin to Drogon, and the dragon growled.

He watched as Lord Royce started shaking with fear as the dragon arched his neck and then lowered his head right before Royce, the man’s mouth wide open, looking up at Drogon as if he were looking at the personification of Death. Drogon bared his teeth and snapped them shut right in front of the man, who pressed his eyes shut. He was clearly scared to death, but he tried hard to keep from showing it.

“This is madness!” one of the northern men shouted.

“We will never bend the knee. We’d rather all die than join you to fight Bran Stark, the trueborn son of Ned Stark! We do not want to bow to any southern ruler again!”  It was Lord Glover who spoke, his eyes set on the Dragon, a shimmer of fear in them.

“We are not here to take the throne. We want to give independence to every single kingdom. We do not want to rule over them like Bran does. Once independence is given to every kingdom, Queen Daenerys and I will leave Westeros. You are independent now, but the other kingdoms are not. All we ask is for you to help the others in getting their independence.”

Glover looked at him confused, blinking.   
“Queen Sansa told us you were here to conquer Westeros and burn your way through every single castle. She told us you were back to kill every person in King’s Landing and then take the throne” he uttered; his eyes set on Dany.   
She starred back at him; her jaw clenched before she opened her mouth.

“I have tried to gain your respect and trust before, my lords. I came with my army, my dragons and saved your people from death. Now I am here, again, to urge you to help rid the kingdoms from the wheel that has been crushing the common people. I’m not here to do the things your Queen has told you, but I trust that you people would never believe me.”

Jon felt Drogon tense up, almost a mirror to his mother. His growls got deeper and more furious. He eyed the northern men and then his head spun to the side, spitting fire. The men jumped to the left as the fire almost grazed them. It was just a warning, not meant to actually hurt anyone, but Jon knew that the next time would mean certain death.

Slowly, he saw man after man kneel. Lord Glover and Lord Manderly were the only ones left standing. Jon watched as Lord Royce, who was still on his knees, slowly stood up. His eyes were dark and his skin pale as he frowned.   
“I will never fight besides a Targaryen whore,” he hissed. He turned his head to Jon. “Sansa Stark was the Queen we chose, and you killed her. You killed your own blood.”

Without hesitation, Jon stepped forward, drew his sword and beheaded the man, before anyone could react. He breathed heavily, agitated by the man’s words, feeling the fire consuming him. _Am I more dragon or wolf?_ There was no room left in his heart for forgiveness or understanding for people who talked about Daenerys as if she were a monster. He heard men gasp and yell something, but his ears were clouded by flames _. It’s the dragon blood running through my veins_.  He could only hear his heartbeat; louder than ever.

“Sansa Stark wanted to kill her own blood, too” he spat as he looked down to the body. He looked up at the northern lords and saw that Lord Manderly slowly bent his knee, his face lined with anger. Glover stood and met his gaze but whatever he saw in Jon’s eyes, it made him slowly bend the knee, too. He looked over at Dany and saw that she was already looking at him, her lower lip drawn between her teeth lightly. The sight of it made his blood boil in lust. There was a small smile playing around her lips as she seemed to sense how much he wanted her in that moment. She looked like a true Dragon Queen when Drogon drew his head back so that it was right beside his mother. She put her hand on his scales as he growled in content.

 

 

~~

 

 

He pushed her against the wooden door, closing it with a loud bang. He did not care if anyone heard them, he needed to bury himself deep inside her. She tasted so sweet, his tongue teasing hers. She grabbed his curls and moaned underneath his lips, making him growl as he swiftly ripped her dress open. He had never wanted her more, he realized, as he felt the fire underneath her skin. It felt like it almost burnt the tip of his fingers as they trailed up the side of her thighs, her fingers slowly digging into his naked back.

With a grunt, he picked her up and brought her to the bed. She squirmed out of the ripped dress and helped him out of his clothes, her eyes filled with lust as he bent over her, taking the sight of her in. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, there had never been a doubt in his mind. He kissed her roughly, one of his hands cupping her breast, the other slowly trailing down. When he touched her wetness she moaned breathlessly, her body arching towards him. He smirked and watched her face as he slid two of his fingers between the folds slowly. She drew her lower lip between her teeth and closed her eyes as he circled her clit with his thumb.   
“Jon” she panted when he slid his fingers inside of her, continuing to massage her clit with the thumb. He felt her tightness around him, the smell of her arousal making his cock grow even harder. She let out a moan, the sweetest sound he had ever heard and then planted kisses along her body until his mouth reached her cunt. He kept fucking her with his fingers while he slowly started licking her clit, sucking on it gently until he could feel her almost at the peak as she grabbed onto the furs on the bed, her legs shaking relentlessly. He drew back his head and thrust into her, his cock being welcomed by her heat. She sucked in air and smirked at him, licking her lips. He could not bear it any longer, that much he knew. He let himself fall to his back and brought Daenerys with him, so that she was now sitting on top of him, his hands on either side of her waist.

She immediately started to move, and he wondered if there had been any fiercer woman. She rode him like she was born to do it, her hands put on his chest. He felt the familiar tightness in his cock. Dany let her head fall back as she tightened around him, coming undone with a loud gasp of his name, him following her right after.

 

 

~~

 

 

“We have received word from Bran,” Arya said as she entered the hall. They had called everyone to have a dinner and to discuss the plans of actions after. Yara, Maron, Gendry, Dany, Daario and Jon were already seated and had waited for Arya. She put the scroll down in front of Daenerys before sitting down on her right.

Dany sighed as she opened it, every eye set on her.

 

_To King Jon Snow and Queen Daenerys Targaryen,  
It has come to my attention that you have killed Sansa Stark and taken Winterfell._

_You are invited to come to King’s Landing to inquire a peaceful agreement. I am certain we can avoid a war that will likely result in thousands of unnecessary deaths. We would like to offer to meet in four weeks’ time, preferably at the Dragon Pit._

_  
Lord Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King_

 

“Good Gods,” Jon growled, placing his hand over his eyes. “He’s got some nerves.”

There had been a time where he had liked the man, but those times were long forgotten. He wanted nothing more than to just get it over with and leave these godforsaken kingdoms behind.

“If he thinks us stupid enough to walk into a trap, he’s even stupider than Sansa was” Arya scoffed, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“We should march as soon as possible” Yara said with a stern look, eyes set on Daenerys. It still annoyed him how she looked at her, but nothing could compare to Daario Naharis. The man had been a shadow to Dany ever since he arrived, always smirking at her and chiming into conversations she was part of. Dany had told him about their relationship and had assured him that it had stopped before both had even met. But every time the man eyes Dany, he was close to ripping his eyes out and feeding them to Ghost.

“We should surround King’s Landing, and have you fly in on Drogon. If you could fly directly to the Red Ke-“   
“No,” Daenerys chimed in, her voice fierce. “I will not repeat my mistakes of the past. We need to take King’s Landing without Drogon.”

Maron cleared his throat and leaned forward, his arms settled on the table. “Then let’s agree to the meeting. Once everyone is at the Dragonpit, you can fly to the Red Keep and take it without having to burn anyone. As far as I know, the throne room is still nothing but ruins, your dragon can guard you there.”

“That seems so easy,” Dany sighed. “Lord Tyrion is no fool. He knows that we could easily do that. There will be manned scorpions, I’m sure of it.”

“We have enough men to win a war should it come to it. We just need to draw them out of King’s Landing. They have re-built the walls surrounding the city and can easily hide behind them if we don’t intent to use the dragon” Arya pointed out, scratching her head lightly.

“How do we draw them out of the city?” Gendry questioned, frowning.

No one answered him, all lost in thought. He slowly looked at everyone’s face, all of them either looking tired or deeply in thought.

“With respect Daenerys,” Yara said gently “I think we will not have an option besides taking the city with force. Even if you do not help us with your Dragon, we will have to kill people to win the war. It appears we either use your dragon and some of our foes are killed or our forces try to take the city with great loss on our side. Either way, people will die.”

Daenerys’ eyes shut, the corners of her mouth turning downwards. He felt her pain and her exhaustion.

“I know war, Yara. I know that people die,” she muttered. “Yet, I cannot use Drogon even if I wanted. As I said, I am sure that they have build hundreds of scorpions. I took all of them down once, but who is to say that this time will be the same?”

Jon flinched at the thought of one of the bolts burring itself deep inside Drogon’s chest. He pictured the great dragon falling to his death, with Daenerys on his back.

He wished he could ride him just so he could take on the task, but the dragon would never let him.

“Then it appears that we will have to find a way to either draw them out or break the walls” Maron exclaimed with a nod.

 

 

~~

 

 

Daenerys had been lost in thought since they had met with the others, her eyes always looking at something in the distance. He watched her pace in front of him, her arms crossed behind her back, her mouth set to a hard line. Jon carefully put down Lyanna in their bed before giving her a gentle kiss on the nose. Ghost jumped up to curl himself around her, his white fur blending in with her silver curls. He turned around to his wife and took her in his arms, breathing in the smell of her hair.

“You need some rest,” he whispered. “We all do.”

She shook her head against his chest, her arms stiff next to her sides. He could sense that she was troubled by something, but she had not let him know about what.

“No,” she said. “I have been having dreams about fire and blood. Every time I fall asleep, I see flames. I can smell blood in the air, and I have dragon eggs in my hands.”

He grabbed her shoulders gently and pushed her back just enough to look at her face.

“Dragon eggs?” he wondered. Daenerys had often told him that some of her dreams had come true. She was a woman who emerged from flames unharmed twice so he had believed her without any doubt in his mind that she could also dream the future.

She nodded gently and put her head back on his chest, this time wrapping her arms around his body. “Yes,” she sighed. “Dragon eggs.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took me so long! I have been very busy lately but im glad i got this chapter done. Hope you enjoyed it.


	21. Made for the Fire

**Daenerys**

 

The clouds hung deep and gray over Winterfell as she walked along the top of the walls of Winterfell, Arya and Yara by her side. It was a particularly moody atmosphere that was surrounding the castle, the sun not having come out for at least a week. Dany missed the feeling of warmth on her skin, missed turning her face to the sun and taking a deep breath of sunny air.

“The troops should be at the Neck by now. We should wait another week until we follow them on your dragon” Yara suggested.

Dany nodded and came to a halt, looking down to the courtyard, where Jon was talking to Gendry, both seemingly relaxed and friendly with each other. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Arya leaning against the wall, looking at her rather than watching the two men.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t like this plan” she huffed, arms crossed in front of her.

“You know that there is no better way,” Dany emphasized, her eyes still set on Jon and Gendry. “We talked about why we’re not letting you go in by yourself.”

She could practically feel Arya rolling her eyes and turned towards her to find her looking rather angry.

“It would be so much easier and faster! I could steal a face, get in there with no problems and capture Bran. No one would even notice until after I-“

“Arya,” Dany interrupted with her hand placed on Arya’s arm. “We are not letting you go in there by yourself. We do not know if the Three-eyed raven can sense you or knows of your magical ability. We do not know enough about his powers to just gamble with your life.”

Arya sighed and looked to the ground; her jaw clenched. She felt her annoyance, but she would not endanger her life if she could help it. The priestess had warned her that they should try to win this war without any magic and that included Arya’s faceless men training as well as Drogon.

“I want to fight, too” Arya mumbled.

“You will. We all will need to fight if we want a chance to win this war,” Yara smirked as she looked at Arya. “We all know you are a great fighter. We need you to win this thing.”

A small smile appeared on Arya’s lips and Dany gave Yara a thankful nod. She felt a pit in her stomach looking at the two, wondering if this war would take them from her just like the last one took Missandei and Jorah from her. The thought of the two made her heart ache with pain and she wondered if she would ever not feel like this when she thought of them. Arya slowly turned around to look down at the courtyard. “Gendry told me that he is making armor you.”

Dany nodded and gave her a smirk. “He is. Do you want some too?”

“No,” Arya laughed. “It would only slow me down.”

Dany turned around at the sound of someone walking towards them and could hardly hide her disappointment when it was Daario. He smirked as he stopped in front of them, hands on his belt.

“My Queen,” he rasped with a bow of his head. “May I have a word with you in private?”

Arya rolled her eyes and turned to Dany. “I would feel better if I’d stay close by. As the commander of your Queensguard and all.” Dany couldn’t help but give her an amused nod, knowing full well that she just wanted to make sure Daario would not be inappropriate towards her.

Yara bowed her head slightly and left while Arya slowly walked a bit to give them a bit of privacy, stopping far enough to not hear anything but close enough to see everything that was going on.

“What is it?” Dany asked as she turned towards him completely.

He stepped closer and leaned his side against the wall.

“I wanted to ask you about your plans after you are done here.”

Dany raised an eyebrow and sighed. “You know what the plan is. We will go back to Meereen.”

Daario pressed his lips together and looked at her for a couple of seconds before he spoke again. “And then we will liberate Essos with your little family joining us? Do you think that your husband will love conquering an entire continent?”

His voice was layered with jealousy, his eyes dark. She closed her eyes and tried not to let the anger well up inside of her too much, fearing that she might say something she would later regret.

“What are you trying to insinuate?”

“I’m merely asking a question, my queen,” he said. “I fear that you will be too distracted by your newly found family. A conqueror can’t be distracted. You will need to fo-“

 “I thought you would know me better than to insinuate that I would just put off what I was born to do simply because I gave birth to a child. I was a mother before she came into this world and I still did what had to be done. Mothers are stronger than most men, Daario” she sneered.

Daario’s expression hardened and he slowly shook his head.   
“That is not what I meant. What if Jon Snow is going to have a problem with the way we handle things in Essos? He has killed you once before. I still do not trust him.”   
“I do not want to discuss my husband with you. I do not want you to talk about him,” she hissed, stepping closer to him, her hand raised. “And I do not want you to question my judgement. He would not be my husband if I did not trust him.”

He huffed out a breath of air and stepped back.

“Alright then. As my queen commands.”

 

 

~~

 

 

“I hate that man with a passion,” Jon growled jokingly as he kissed her cheek, his beard tickling her. “Can’t we just leave him here?” She giggled and pushed her hand onto his chest, making him move back a bit.

“You want to leave Daario as the Lord of Winterfell?” she teased.

“No,” he admitted. “But I don’t want him with us either. He still looks at you like you’re _his_. And that makes me want to kill him with his own dagger.”

Dany chuckled at the thought of that but in truth she was not fond of the idea to have them fight. She knew that Jon would win but she did need Daario to lead the Second Sons. “He will lead the Second Sons back in Essos and we will not have to deal with him except for council meeting.”

Jon rolled his eyes and leaned forward to give her a gentle kiss. “Alright,” he placed another kiss on her nose. “But if he doesn’t stop looking at you like an idiot, I will have a word with him. I do not tolerate anyone looking at my wife like that.”

“Do what you must,” she teased with a grin on her face. “But first we need to win this stupid war.”

His eyebrows raised. “Stupid?”

“Well I am certainly not enjoying it. I still doubt that it is going to be as easy as everyone keeps thinking.”

With a heavy sigh, her husband got off the bed and walked over to the hearth, where Ghost was curled up next to Lyanna’s crib. His face looked tired as he sat down on the chair next to the crib, his eyes set on their daughter. His dark curls were put back in a bun, but one curl had freed itself and was hanging into his forehead.

“It’s the only way,” he said slowly, eyes still on Lyanna. “You know it is.”

She sat up, the furs slipping down, leaving her naked skin goose fleshed.

“I know,” she admitted sadly. “But I also know that it will not be as easy as it looks. Tyrion is smart. Bran is smart. They will know we are coming, and they will be ready for us.”

“Aye,” he acknowledged. “They probably will. But there is no other way. You won’t fly to the Red Keep on Drogon, which I think is a good idea, and we won’t meet them in the Dragon Pit. And I sure will not let Arya go in there by herself. So, there is no other option, Dany.”

Dany felt like a child again, all of the sudden. She had been at this moment so often. When she got to Westeros, she had listened to Tyrion and Jorah and even Jon and it had gotten her nowhere but the breaking point. All their counsel had been logical and seemed like the only right decision but in the end, it had cost her everything. Even after having forgiven Jon, the realization still hurt.

“And thousands of our men will die. They will be at the gates and who knows what will wait for them there?” she whispered with her eyes closed.

“We won’t win this war without casualties” he conceded.

“I know… I know. I just wish we were already done.”

She opened her eyes and saw him give her a weak smile; his eyes softer than before.   
“Come here” he said gently and opened his arms. She slowly got out of the bed, put her light sleeping gown on and went over to him. With a sigh, she sat down on his lap, both legs falling down on the side of the chair, her arms around his neck.

She could watch Lyanna sleep in her crib, her silver curls surrounding her beautiful face like a halo.

“We made her,” he whispered to her neck. “Look at her. She is the most beautiful being to ever walk the earth, right after her mother. She will grow up knowing that her mother is the woman who liberated the whole world from tyrants.”

Dany smiled, but deep inside her, she felt nothing but darkness. _How could Lyanna be proud of me if I do not help these people win the war? I will let so many people die just because I am afraid of my dragon blood. I am scared that I will lose control and that I will be burned by my own fire again._

“I’m tired,” she said, hiding her face as she walked back to the bed. _He cannot see my tears._ “Let’s go to sleep.”

 

 

~~

 

 

It was the smoke that woke her. The very familiar and somehow comforting smell of her son and herself, finding its way into her lungs, tickling in her throat.

“Wake up!” she heard someone scream and then she heard a cry.

Her eyes flung open and she glimpsed Jon, Lyanna in his arms, walking to the window, eyes open wide. The panic gripped her as she realized that she was awake and not dreaming. Within a second her eyes adjusted to the eerie lighting until she noticed that it was smoke that clouded her vision. Arya was shaking her shoulders, her tight grip hurting her.   
“What is happening?” she asked as she finally sat up. Arya was seemingly panicked, now hopping off the bed to get the furs off her.

“Winterfell is burning. We have been ambushed. Bran’s troops are outside of the wall. We fell for it. We are so stupid. We have to-“   
“Arya stop,” Dany yelled when she saw Grey Worm enter the room. “Grey Worm how do we get out?”

The man shook his head. “There is no way out. The fire has already spread too much. We have to get out of here through the window, the fire is almost here.”

“Dany get up. Get up, please” Jon pleaded, Lyanna crying in his arms. Dany nodded and got up quickly, Arya helping her to put her furred cloak on.

“Where are the others? Yara? Maron? Gendry?” Dany asked, eyes set on Grey Worm.

“I do not know, my Queen. I have been in front of your room the whole night until I heard screams. I sent Blue Rat to see what was going on, but he never returned.”

Dany nodded slowly, panic gripping her. She closed her eyes and felt Drogon’s presence close by. She took a deep breath and felt the familiar sense of fire spiking in her blood. There was no time to be scared. She had to protect her people. She looked at Jon, who was trying to get Lyanna to calm down, his eyes hard and seemingly thinking about how to get out of the mess they were in.

“I want you all at this side of the room,” she ordered, pointing at the door. “I will call Drogon and he will get us out of here.”

Without hesitation, everyone followed her command, Jon a bit more hesitant than Arya and Grey Worm. She followed them to the side of the room and took Arya’s hand when she saw her cough violently.

There was a roar, ripping through the air loud enough to make her shiver in anticipation. Something inside of her was waking up, she could feel it. They felt Drogon before the walls crumbled, his heavy weight making the castle walls tremble. He took down the wall with ease, his claws cutting through the stone without problems. His burning red eyes found hers and she felt his burning desire to burn whoever had dared to put her family in danger. His head shifted and they could see outside. She could barely see anything except fire: bright and hot and red.

“Let’s get on Drogon,” she heard Jon yell. “NOW!”

Dany saw Arya and Jon get on Drogon, but Grey Worm stood next to her.

“My Queen?” he asked. She looked at him and then at Jon and Arya, both looking confused.

“Dany, we have to go!” Jon yelled through the smoke. She could feel the fire getting closer, the smoke now scratching at her throat without leaving any actual pain. She felt something pull her into a different direction, into the fire.   
She turned to Grey Worm and got closer to him, making sure that only he would be able to hear what she would say. “Get on Drogon. I will stay behind. There is something I need to do. Drogon will put you somewhere safe and then get me.”

Grey Worm shook his head. “No, I will stay by you. I cannot leave my Queen here alone.”

“Grey Worm I command you to get on Drogon. I swear I will be fine” she said and placed a hand on his cheek. Without another word he walked to Drogon and got on, Jon’s eyes widening when he grasped what she was planning to do.

“Dany what are you-“

“Drogon,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “sōvegon!” Her son took off with a powerful roar, drowning out whatever Jon was yelling at her.

She had to know them in safety. They were not immune to the fire, but she was.

_Fire cannot kill a dragon_

It was not clear to her what it was that called her, but she knew she needed to follow it. Like a burning string wrapped around her body, it dragged her into the hallway, where the flames where burning brightly. She narrowed her eyes when she glimpsed a bit of green among the red flames, almost as if the tips of the flames had been dipped in liquid grass.

_“Daenerys,”_ a faint voice whispered through the flames. _“Follow the sound of my voice.”_

She slowly obeyed, stepping into the flames in front of her, feeling the heat swallow her whole, her eyes closed against the brightness of the flames. Dany felt her cloak fall from her as ashes, the feeling of stepping through the fire naked making her almost feel like she was being purified.

_“The Godswood. You need to get to the Godswood.”_ Her feet seemed to hover above the ground, taking her to where she needed to go without her having to think about it. When she opened her eyes again it was because she suddenly felt cold, her feet touching earth. She was outside, her skin shivering without the blanket of fire, her mouth full of the taste of ashes. But there it was: the fire. The Godswood was burning too, only the big tree still untouched. Jon had told her once that they called it the heart tree. Its face looked as if it was mocking her, standing there in front of it, naked and unharmed.

She stepped closer, now wishing she could wrap herself into her cloak, watching the face as if it would start moving any moment. But the tree just stood there, the bright red flames in the background making the red leaves look alive.

“Did you call me here?” she asked with a tilted head, wondering if she truly had gone mad now. _Why am I talking to a tree?_

_“You look frightened.”_ The voice sounded like a strange wind caught in a firestorm, almost too weak to really hear it.

“I am not” she uttered, holding her chin up a bit.

_“You should be frightened,”_ The voice said right behind her. She turned around quickly, but no one was there. _“He will kill everyone you hold dear before this war is done. You must get to him first.”_

She faced the tree again; confusion painted her face. _Am I dreaming?_

“Bran?” she asked with a raised brow.

_“The Three-eyed Raven has gotten too powerful. No single being should hold this amount of power.”_

“What do you want me to do?” she inquired, stepping closer.

_“He wants to kill everyone you hold dear.”_

Dany shook her head in confusion. “You already said that.”

_“He is too powerful. He can change the course of history if he figures out how. He does not know how to handle his power. He has made many mistakes already. He needs to be dealt with.”_

“We will defeat him” she ensured, slowly extending her hand to touch the tree. But before her fingers reached it, the voice spoke again.

_“You, Daenerys. It must be you. Only magic can defeat magic.”_

She felt her fingers draw back, the fire in her veins getting bigger. “Me?”

_“You are the princess that was promised. The dragon has three heads. Your family needs to live for the world to be born again.”_

Suddenly, she heard a faint hiss in the distance, the sound of it making her fingers twitch in excitement. She knew what the sound was, she had heard it before. Without thinking she followed the noise, practically running into the flames of the Godswood. She could hear trees crumbling next to her as she kept on running, her eyes finding nothing but flames. Dany wondered then if she would ever feel more alive then surrounded by fire or flying up in the air on Drogon. She truly was not made to sit on an iron throne. She was made for fire and air; she was made for adventure and freedom. Her feet took her further into the woods until she could feel the fire simmering down, as it had eaten up all the trees already. She slowed down when she finally could see without problems again, the flames only covering the ground, making her look as if she was walking on a sea of fire. It was then that she saw them: two perfect dragon eggs, the scales shimmering with heat. One of them was as white as snow, with crimson spots on it while the other one was a light grey with some of the scales shimmering golden.

She fell to her knees in front of them, breathless and exhausted. With tears running down her cheeks, she took them both and for the first time in her life she felt like the heat was burning through her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that it took me this long to write this chapter. I had many tests last week and was completely busy with Uni stuff in general. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I plan on writing about 2 or 3 more chapters before the story comes to an end!


	22. The Unburnt

**Jon**

 

Drogon had taken them to a spot far enough to still see Winterfell in flames. Dawn was upon them, the dark sky turning to a lighter blue at the edge. He could see the thick, black smoke rising to the sky, almost as if it was watering down the darkness. Drogon had taken off as soon as they had all had solid ground under their feet. He had barely lifted off from the ground, seemingly fighting with himself about not having his rider on his back and the instructions of her telling him to fly. It had been a mixture between running and jumping rather than a smooth flight, but everyone had gotten to the ground safely.   
He watched as Drogon circled Winterfell only to spit fire at what he could only guess was the army Bran had sent.   
“What the hell are we going to do now?” Arya asked beside him.

Jon turned towards her. “She is still alive. Otherwise Drogon would have reacted differently. He is attacking the army, so I guess she is still fine. I have no idea what she is doing though.”

“We have to go and get her,” Grey Worm said with a hard face “We have to.”

Arya nodded and Jon agreed. He was confused about many things, like the fact that someone would burn Winterfell, knowing that there was a great black beast with his mother occupying it. And, why they stood there, almost waiting for their certain death, without any chance to fight said great beast up in the sky.

He saw no arrows trying to find their way into Drogon’s scaled body, but maybe that was just the fact that they were too far away. Jon gently stroked Lyanna’s head, wiping away a bit of ash.  

“Grey Worm stay here with Lyanna. It is too dangerous for her,” he ordered in a soft tone. “The army is south of Winterfell and won’t get here judging by Drogon’s wrath he is currently unleashing upon them. We will come back as soon as we found Daenerys.”

Grey Worm seemed like he wanted to protest, his jaw clenched, but he nodded after he saw that Arya nodded gently.

“I will protect the princess with my own life.”

He put Lyanna into Grey Worm’s arms before giving her a kiss on the forehead. She giggled, making his heart feel like it was about to burst. He could not loose her. She was everything and more, her and Dany. He would not loose any of them.

 

~~

 

The closer they got, the more his body wanted him to run. He smelled the burnt flesh of thousands of men, heard Drogon’s roar so loudly, it seemed like he was standing right behind him. They found many big arrows lying on the ground, obviously having missed the target. Some were buried into the stone walls of Winterfell. They were almost at the Godswood when he saw Drogon dive out of the thick clouds, his huge body disappearing behind Winterfell, just the sound of flames to hear.

They walked along the wall until they found a spot where the wall had been destroyed by Drogon, when he jumped onto it while saving them. It destroyed enough for them to be able to get inside. It was the outer wall of the Godswood and inside, he could barely see any trees left. Just ashes and smoke. Just as they were about to climb the rumbles of the torn down wall, Arya’s head spun around. Jon tried to make out what she was looking at, but he could barely see anything but smoke. Arya drew needle and without thinking about it, he had drawn longclaw. He watched as his sister’s body tensed up a bit and saw her taking a few steps forward before relaxing just a tiny bit.

“It’s just me,” a familiar voice said. He emerged out of the smoke; his hands put up into the air. “I’m very glad to see you are both alive. I tried to get into Winterfell before the ambush to warn ya, but it seems like I was too late” Davos said, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Jon huffed out a breath and leaped forward to embrace the man in a short hug before looking at him more closely. He looked older, and tired.

“The title of Master of Ships doesn’t seem to become you, old friend,” he said. “I thought I’d see you in the battle. On the other side.”  
Davos shook his head. “I got out of that shit hole as soon as I heard the news about what you lot were planning. The king is-“

“We can talk later. We have to find Daenerys,” Jon interrupted quickly. “Let’s find my wife.”

Davos nodded and followed them into the Godswood. But it could hardly still be called that, Jon thought. There was no single tree left, at least he could not see any through the smoke. Just completely charred, black, brittle ghosts of what had been trees. They carefully walked through the sea of ash towards the heart tree, which still stood tall.

“It is still completely intact,” Arya whispered as they got closer. “Not a single leaf got burnt.”

Jon looked at the tree and swore the face had shifted for just a second, but when he blinked, it seemed like just before. They walked past it and further, with something seemingly pulling them into a certain direction. The smoke slowly seemed to disappear, and when they were almost at the other side of the Godswood, he saw her. The smoke around her lifted, and her silver hair seemingly glowed amidst the harsh darkness around her. She was just a speck of light sitting in the ashes, completely naked. As soon as he had spotted her, his body had reacted by running towards his wife, with no regards to Arya or Davos.

He stopped just a couple of yards in front of her. Her eyes were closed gently and she sat upright, carrying two small dragons in her arms as if they were her children. Jon’s mouth opened and closed, before he fell to his knees.

He could barely look at her when she opened her eyes. In his mind, he felt unworthy to even look at her. Here she sat, the mother of dragons, unburnt by the fire, two more magical creatures of fire in her arms. He looked down to his hands and suddenly wished he could go back in time. Back to the time when he put the dagger into her heart. To tell himself that he was a stupid, weak man who had been led into doing something terrible by people who were not even half as strong as the woman he killed. This woman, right there, was more than any of them could ever be.

He looked up only to find her still looking at him, her gaze strong but gentle. She stood up then, the two tiny dragons hissing and crawling up her arms before settling on either of her shoulders. Covered with ashes, she looked more beautiful than ever. With a powerful roar, Drogon dove down from the sky and landed, the walls crumbling beneath his hind legs. He nuzzled Dany’s back, smoke rising between his teeth as the tiny dragons hissed.

 

 

~~

 

 

“Drogon has burnt most of them, only a small group was able to flee. The Prince of Dorne is dead or missing and Daenerys’ handmaidens are dead or missing. A lot of other casualties,” Yara sighed, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Our men are still a week from King’s Landing. We should make our way down on the dragon and join them there. We are too exposed by ourselves up here. After they set Winterfell on fire, no idea what they plan on doing next.”

Jon looked around and found everyone nodding, except for Dany. She looked too calm for someone who had been a victim of an ambush. They were all standing around the table in the main hall of Pyke, a fire burning peacefully in the hearth. After having found each other, they had agreed that Pyke was the safest place to retreat to. Jon was sick of many things, but above all he was sick of the constant fear of threats against his loved ones.   
He turned to Kinvara, who stood a bit to the side. “Might I ask how you did not see this happening? I would have thought that your god would warn you about something as big as a fire being laid by our enemies” he growled.

She put on a faint smile and shook her head. “My god only shows me whatever is needed for us to win this war.”

Daario, who had survived the fire instead of burning to a crisp like Jon had hoped, let out a breathy laugh. “Your god sounds like an ass,” he said. “No offence.”

“I can’t believe I agree with this man but,” Yara chimed in. “He has a point.”

“You are still here, and alive. Drogon burnt most of the army and now you are safe on an island far from King’s Landing. It seems like it was all part of his plan” Kinvara said.

Jon clenched his jaw. He had no interest in the Lord of Light’s plans and no interest in keeping this woman around longer than needed.   
“Tell that to the people who died in that fire. The Prince of Dorne is dead, handmaidens and servants” he hissed.

“I still don’t understand what the plan was,” Arya said calmly, looking down at the map in front of them. “Were they planning on just burning us alive? No. They had to know that we would escape. They know we have a dragon. And they know that Daenerys can’t be burnt. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they were trying to make us angry?” Gendry offered.   
Arya shook her head. “No. The soldiers stood there,” she pointed right south of Winterfell. “And they waited. They waited for the castle to burn out.”

Jon watched as Dany put her fingers to her lower lip. She cleared her throat and sat up straight in her chair.   
“They tried to kill Drogon, but he was too fast. I can only conclude that they came to kill him and thought they could kill some of us too.”

Agreeing nods all around the table.   
“I can only tell you what I have gathered while I was still a member of the council,” Davos mumbled. “They were planning to kill ya all with wildfire in the Dragonpit. I was happy to hear that you declined. But it was sooner that I decided to join ya lot. The situation in the capital is dire. The common people are not happy with having a king they barely know, one with seemingly no intention to better anyone’s life. King Bran is more a full-sized doll than a human, if ya ask me.”

“And yet, Tyrion seems to think he is the best choice. After he conspired to have me killed, he put him on the throne. I understand why, it was a smart move on his part, but he has no experience, has no power besides wisdom,” Dany observed.

“Your Grace, the day that we found out you were still alive… I have never seen someone as terrified as Tyrion was. He immediately started making plans. Had many scorpions built. I’m sure he hasn’t had a good night sleep since then” Davos chuckled into his beard.

That put a smile on Dany, even if just a small one.   
“Good,” she grinned “How many scorpions exactly?”

“Eight hundred,” he guessed. “Maybe fewer?”

Jon frowned and looked at him. What an odd choice of words.   
“Alright. It does not matter why or how they did what they did. Their intentions are clear. They want to get rid of us, because we are planning to overthrow the current King. To better the lives of all the people crushed underneath the wheel. Bran Stark must be dealt with. But I am tired of seeing people die.”

She stood up, her hands put on the table. Dany looked at everyone’s face individually before settling on his. He smiled at her and took on of her hands, placing a gentle kiss on it.

“How are you planning on dealing with him without people dying?” Davos asked her.

She looked every bit the Dragon, standing tall dressed in her black dress, hair falling into her face wildly. He remembered this look, complete determination, colored in with utter believe in herself. He had seen that face the first time he had walked into the throne room at Dragonstone, when she had told him about her belief in herself.

“I have a plan, Ser Davos,” she declared. “And it will work.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry that it took this long to update this fanfic but i had to write two term papers and i couldnt find time (or energy) to continue this. To be honest i havent felt very connected to this fanfic like i have in the beginning but im commited to finishing it. And we are coming to an end! After this, there are only three more chapters (including an epilogue). If you liked this chapter feel free to leave a comment as those really make me happy and make me want to continue writing. Anyways, hope you liked this chapter. Thanks for reading!!


	23. The Dragon has Three Heads

**Arya**

 

The morning had brought nothing but wind and rain, but the evening was strangely calm as she looked over the dark blue sea, the sky colored like a fresh blue. She sat on the sill of a window, a leg dangling over the edge. She was preparing for the evening, her breath calm and collected. She was looking forward to it, to some extent. It was a weird anticipation, the feeling of it being over soon overwhelmingly pleasant but she would not like some of the steps she had to take in order to achieve the peace that was upon them.   
“How are you feeling?” She had heard him stop minutes ago but had not turned her head yet. She took a deep breath and smiled.   
“Calm,” she whispered against the wind but realized that he probably couldn’t hear her. Arya turned her head to Gendry, leaning against a stone pillar. “I feel calm.”

The corner of his mouth turned upwards, and he nodded.

“I thought as much. You always seem strangely calm.”

“Strangely?”

“Well,” he huffed. “Most people lose their calmness as soon as they are faced with something unpleasant but I feel like you thrive once you are faced with it. That makes me admire you and fear you all the same.”

She tilted her head at that but made no comment. It was weird to be admired. Maybe even weirder than to be feared, she thought. It was nice to hear that he admired her though, even though it was just a small consolation.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said then, “Back in Winterfell…before the long night, I was caught up in my feelings. I was all over the place and I asked you something I should have known not to ask. I know you, Arya. I know you weren’t made to live in a castle and be a wife.”

Arya smiled widely. She had known the reasons for his asking then, but it was nice to hear it said aloud. It reminded her of the conversations she had had with her father, and how sure she had been back then and how sure she still was today.

“I appreciate it. And…if I ever change my mind, which I most likely will not, I might take you up on the offer. If you aren’t married then, of course” she joked.

He laughed, his eyes sparkling, making Arya feel like they were back to normal. Back to when they were people who could make jokes, and when life was a lot easier. She missed those times. But if the plan worked, the easier times would follow once again.

“I don’t think I’ll get married anytime soon. But if I do, would you come to the wedding?” he asked curiously.

She shook her head softly. “No. Because I will be liberating a whole continent at the side of Daenerys. But if I ever come back to Westeros, I promise I’ll visit Storm’s End.”

Arya jumped off the windowsill and walked towards him.

Gendry smiled and held up his arms softly, asking permission to embrace her. Arya chuckled and closed the space between them, feeling his warm embrace. She breathed in his scent and closed her eyes.

 

 

~~

 

 

Arya knocked on the door, three times before she entered. All three of them were sitting on furs in front of the hearth, Lyanna giggling at a wooden toy Jon was waving in front of her face. She took it in, the sight of her family, the sight of the people most important to her, before closing the door behind her. She was still calm, even though the sun was about to set.

Daenerys was still clothed in her regular dress, her hair unbraided. She could tell that Daenerys was not as calm as she was, but instead fire filled her body. Even when Dany was calm, there was something burning inside of her. Maybe that’s why she never gives up, Arya thought. There is always life inside of her.

“Arya,” Dany said. “Sit down with us for a bit. We need to get going soon, but I want to soak up every bit of this.”

Arya sat down and took the offered wooden toy from Jon, Lyanna following it with her eyes. She was sitting up, her silver curls glowing against the fire at her back. Lyanna was growing so fast, a real display of the time that had been spent with ending a war. The girl had been born and had spent all of her life until now amidst a war, death and everything in between and yet she was still pure and unharmed, sheltered. Arya wished for nothing more than for it to stay that way.

_If I can help it, Lyanna will never know harm like we all have._

That brought tears to her eyes, and she took the girl into her arms. Lyanna said something only she herself could understand, a sweet melody, nonetheless. As she hugged her, Dany put a hand onto her arm and smiled.   
“We will all be fine, I promise you,” she said. “And Lyanna will be safe here.”

Arya nodded, Lyanna calmly sitting on her lap now, playing with the wooden toy.   
“If anything happens to us…what will happen with Lyanna?”  Arya asked.

Jon sucked in a breath of air and sat up straight, a deep frown across his forehead. “Nothing will happen to us.”

Arya shook her head softly. “You don’t know that. I know death. I am not afraid to die, but I’m afraid for Lyanna. I don’t want her to grow up without any family.” There were tears in her eyes, burning, her limbs feeling heavier than usual. She envisioned a young Lyanna walking through empty halls, no one there to guide her, no one to protect her.

“Arya,” Dany said “Lyanna will not grow up without family. We will all come back here once it is done. And while we are gone, she will be protected by Grey Worm, Yara, Gendry, Davos. She will be taken care of.”

She swallowed, still not satisfied. “But what if we die?”

“Then Yara will take her to Essos where she will be protected in Meereen. We have talked to her about it. Davos swore to me that he would go with her, to guide her until his last breath. She will be surrounded by people who loved her mother and she will be safe” Jon replied. She looked at him and believed him. He sounded so sure, there was no other chance than to believe him. But if Arya could help it, Lyanna would not grow up without her parents and herself.

She nodded then, even if hesitantly.

“Alright. We should get ready. I need to see the dragons before we leave. Arya, will you accompany me?” Dany asked with a small smile on her lips.

“Of course.”

 

 

 

~~

 

 

“Have you decided on names yet?” she asked while scratching the white dragon behind the tiny horns on his head. He sounded like he was purring, his nostrils flaring as if he was about to sneeze flames. Arya chuckled as the dragon suddenly curled around her hand.

“Well, Jon has decided to name the white one, as it seems to have bonded with him while the grey one has bonded with Lyanna. I don’t think he has found the right name yet,” she smiled as the grey dragon curled up in her arms. “But I decided to name this one Missandei. After my dearest and most trusted friend.” Her voice cracked at the end and Arya pressed her lips together. She had not really known Missandei at all, but she had heard so many stories about the woman, she regretted not having had the time to get to know her. She remembered the tall beautiful woman that had rarely left Dany’s side when she had arrived at Winterfell.

“It’s a beautiful name,” Arya whispered. “Missandei would be honored.”

Dany sobbed, tears streaming down her face. Arya wanted to console her but she knew that what Dany felt could not be erased by nice words or a warm hug. Grief and loss were a constant reminder about the cruelty of war and this very night, they would end it. For everyone they had lost. For Missandei, for Viserion and Rhaegal, for Robb, Rickon, her father, her mother, for everyone who had lost their lives because of wars between people in power.

“She was the most intelligent person I have ever known, and she was good,” Dany cried. “She was _good._ Kind and then she was murdered, chained. I will never get that image out of my head. But tonight, we will end the war and we will break the wheel.”

The dragons reacted to their mother’s growing fire, every single word said with so much pain and determination that it made Arya shiver. She stood up and so did Dany. Facing each other, Arya took Dany’s hand.

“We will break the wheel,” she declared. “I swear to you. We will avenge all the people who lost their lives.”

 

 

~~

 

 

 

The sun had set, Dany, Jon and Arya kissed Lyanna goodbye before mounting Drogon, all wearing black cloaks with armor underneath. There was determination and concentration in all their faces, but no fear. They knew the risk, all of them. Drogon roared as they seated themselves, his body heat higher than usual. He was ready too. He was looking forward to it, even Arya could tell, without the need of being his mother. Kinvara also mounted with them, wearing a dark red cloak, her eyes telling a story without her mouth speaking a word.

No one talked, the cold wind of the night whipping into their faces, the cloudy night a present from the Gods, she thought. The moon was almost completely gone too, leaving the sky as dark as death. There was no room in her mind for any useless thoughts, everything except the plan was washed from her as if she had been born for nothing else. It was funny, she thought, that all her life she had trained not knowing what for. Arya had thought all her training would enable her to kill off all the people on her list but now, that seemed like a dumb and childish thing. All those people, all the people she had killed and all her training led her to this point in time. She was ready. And so were Jon and Daenerys.

 

_“The dragon has three heads,”_ Daenerys had told her the day she had brought them into the loop about her plan. _“Arya, Jon and I are the ones who will end it.”_

_“But I am no dragon,”_ she had blurted out in surprise.

_“You are to me,”_ Daenerys had answered her.

 

Drogon slowly dove through a cloud beneath them, slowly getting ready to land. King’s Landing seemed peaceful at night, but Arya knew that it was not. Kinvara, seated behind her, started whispering in another language and Arya hoped that whatever she was saying would help them.

Drogon landed as softly as he could outside of King’s Landing, far enough so no one would see them, but close enough for Arya and Jon to reach it quickly. As soon as both slid off, Drogon took off again, Dany and Kinvara on his back.

She saw Jon’s eyes following them until Drogon was barely more than a shadow, blending in perfectly with the black night sky.   
“Come on,” she hurried. “We need to get going.”

He nodded and followed her, both running towards the city.

The easiest part of the plan had always been that she had to steal a face of a guard, which she did in almost no time, to Jon’s astonishment. He watched in a mixture of amazement and distraught as his sister killed three guards without even breaking a sweat before transforming into one of the men right in front of his eyes in no time.

“Is that what you were doing in Essos while I was freezing off my rear end on the wall?” he asked.

Arya, wearing the guards face, smirked. “Yes.”

They made their way through the streets of King’s Landing, the smell of feces hanging in the air. Everyone seemed asleep in their houses, only guards seemingly scattered around every single corner. “You have to change into that guys clothing, Jon. I don’t have time to teach you how to steal faces. And I have to admit, I don’t think you would be good at it,” she joked.

He rolled his eyes but did it, Arya standing guard until he was done.

“Alright, we need to get to the Red Keep as fast as possible,” he said.

“Don’t worry, I know this city pretty well. I know the fastest way in,” Arya noted.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so there is one more chapter and then the epilogue. I hope you guys are still reading and enjoying it! :-)


	24. Fire and Blood

**Daenerys**

 

All she had ever done, all the mistakes and all the successes, the people she had lost and the people she had met – had all brought her to this moment. After having let Kinvara off close to the walls of King’s Landing by the beach, she had brought her son to fly high above the clouds, the last moment of silence. She had to give Arya and Jon enough time to get to the Red Keep and Kinvara enough time to light the scorpions atop the walls of the city on fire. It was peaceful above the clouds, just herself and Drogon, something that never really happened anymore. Her son’s radiate heat was coursing through her body as well as calmness. Back when she had arrived at Dragonstone, her advisors had urged her not to attack the Red Keep and she had listened. Dany wondered how much easier and faster all this would have been had she listened to Olenna back then.

 

_You’re a dragon. Be a dragon._

It wasn’t easy for her to think about the past without flinching or regret, but after all the mistakes she had made, tonight, she would do the right thing. She thought about Lyanna, Jon and Arya. Her family, along with the dragons. She was not alone, like last time she had been in King’s Landing. Back then, solitude and grief had drowned her deep. This time, everything would be different. She felt it in her bones.   
After circling the city above the clouds for some time, she decided to fly Drogon lower, enough time having passed already. She flew so close to the clouds, if she sat up straight her head would have almost touched them. A glance over the city told her all she needed to know. Drogon knew what she wanted him to do, a wordless conversation in both their heads and with a couple wing beats, they were above the clouds again. Dany’s body tensed up in anticipation of what would happen next, her hands gripping onto the horns. There was a moment of complete silence, her heart seemingly stopped, before Drogon flapped his wings one more time before diving down, his wings completely hugging the side of his body. Dany could not open her eyes, the wind whipping her face and body relentlessly as Drogon nosedived groundward. He was silent while doing it, a great dark shadow in the pitch-black night.

Dany opened her eyes right when she felt her son’s muscles move beneath her, readying for landing, his wings opening to slow down a bit before crashing into the throne room. With a powerful blow his claws ripped out one of the walls, the throne room still not completely re-built from the last time she had been to the city. Drogon was too big to fit in and decided to crash down one more wall until he found a good enough grip.

Drogon roared when they heard noises coming closer and Dany was sure that the whole city must have been awake by now. Kinvara would have already lit the scorpions on fire, eliminating the biggest threat of all. It was not even a minute before guards came storming the throne room, looking like ants from up where Daenerys sat. She watched as some let their swords fall and ran and others who seemed to be brave or stupid, both seemingly one and the same sometimes.

“Go and my son will not harm you. Fight and you will burn,” she declared.

They all left, one after the other, but Dany knew that more would come. She wondered if Jon and Arya had already done their part of the plan, but she could not do more than wait. Her eyes wandered through the room. There was no throne, as Drogon had burnt it after he had found her dead, as Jon had told her. But the throne room still made her choke up, more out of anger than sadness. This place had been built by her ancestors, so long ago and still it could not be more unfamiliar. Now, it looked more like a ruin, destroyed by Drogon. She was not sad about that. This building had been the beginning of the wheel, she thought sadly. The wheel built by a Targaryen, now being crushed by one. _What an irony_.

She took a deep breath before getting off. She walked towards where the throne had stood, just a platform now. The throne had been uglier than she had imagined it, a dreadful thing. She slowly took the steps up and turned around, taking in the view from where the throne had stood. It was funny to her now, after everything, how this had been all she had ever wanted at some point in her life. Sitting on a throne and being the queen of the seven kingdoms and now she would not want it even if someone asked her to.

She heard footsteps then, Drogon growling in anticipation. A door she could not see opened, somewhere to the side and she could barely see anything, until she felt Drogon’s calmness.   
“Dany,” she heard Jon say. She smiled when she saw that he was alright, a bit of blood on his face. Jon ran to her and hugged her tightly, placing a kiss on her left cheek.

“It wasn’t easy to get in here, but we did it. Arya should join us with them any moment.”

“Good. I don’t want to be here longer than I have to,” she admitted.

He cupped her cheek with his hand, his eyes full of love. “We will get out of here in no time, I promise you. And then we will leave the seven kingdoms behind.”

She nodded and kissed him gently, the sudden realization of this intimate embrace in front of where the throne once stood made her jerk her head back involuntarily, Jon’s face painted in confusion.

“This is the place you once killed me, love,” she whispered gently.

His face twisted with pain at her words. “I would never…” he whispered

“I know,” she interjected, “I know. This time, it’s all different. It is just so strange how a little time can change so much, don’t you think?”

He nodded and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Yes, love.”

“My Queen,” said Kinvara, who had come in silently. “It is time.”

Dany nodded, taking Jon’s hand. Reassuring, Jon gently squeezed her fingers, a small smile on his lips. She was full of love for him then. This is how it should have happened last time, she thought. But where is the use in dwelling in the past? She had to brace for what they were about to face.   
Kinvara led them through the halls as if she had lived there all her life. Jon had his sword drawn, ready to fight whomever was about to get in their way. But strangely- no one did. It was creepily silent, no single soul to see. A shiver washed over Dany’s body as she walked through the halls her ancestors had built, wondering if their feet had touched the exact same spots hers were touching right this second. It was the same feeling as when she had first set foot on Dragonstone; the home her family had built yet it had never felt like a home.

Kinvara stopped in front of a door, her eyes laid on Daenerys.   
“I must warn you,” she said, “my powers are limited. I was able to hide the attack from the Three-eyed Raven because I was here, but that is where my possibilities end.”

Dany nodded, eager to get on with it. “I thank you, Kinvara.”

Jon pushed open the door and they were met with many familiar faces. It was a spacious room, a big wooden table in the middle, the council of Brandon Stark gathered around it. Tyrion’s eyes opened widely when he saw Daenerys, while hers narrowed. She looked over all the people gathered at the table and found Arya, wearing strange clothes, the blade of her dagger pressed against Bran Starks throat. His eyes were empty holes, no single emotion to see.

The general atmosphere was tense, every pair of eyes set on Daenerys. Jon slowly put his hand on the backrest of the chair at the head of the table, opposite of Brandon Stark, looking at Daenerys until she sat down.

Brienne of Tarth, Samwell Tarly, Tyrion and Bran sat there, no one saying a word. She would have loved to bask in the silence for longer, but she had no interest in dragging it out.   
“Well,” she began, her voice soft, “Here we are.”

Tyrion’s forehead was layered in lines, his mouth wide open. She remembered the day she had named him hand of the queen and swallowed hard. He had been a trusted friend once, before he betrayed her. Now she looked at him and felt bitterness.

“Jon I…” Samwell stuttered, an almost childish look on his face.

“Be quiet,” Jon interrupted sternly.

Samwell immediately closed his mouth and looked down to his hands, obviously irritated.

“How?” Tyrion asked then, horror in his eyes.

“We are not here to exchange tales, Tyrion. I think we all know why we _are_ here” she stated.

“You are here to kill me,” Bran said quietly.

Every head turned to him, Arya behind him tightening her grip on the dagger. She was obviously not loving the situation she was in, dagger at the throat of her brother and Dany felt for her. But the man sitting there was not her brother, and they had talked about that a lot beforehand.

“Yes, we are. We are here to crush the wheel and build a better world,” she declared. “And anyone sitting here who would like to join us with that is free to do so. Anyone but Lord Tyrion and the Three-eyed Raven, that it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Brienne asked.

“Every kingdom will be free to choose their own leaders. Those leaders will sit in a council here in King’s Landing and oversee the affairs of Westeros together. No king, no queen. The people will get to choose. Just how I had always planned it.” She looked over to Tyrion then.

He shook his head slightly. “You burned this city to the ground the last time you were here and now you want us to believe in those words?”

“You do not have to believe me, Tyrion. You will not be here to see whether I am telling the truth or not, anyways.”

A pause, before Tyrion cleared his throat. “And where will I be, if I might ask?”

“Dead” Jon growled.

Tyrion seemed to have thought as much, his face betraying no fear or surprise.

“Because I tried to save the realm?” he wondered.

“No, because you conspired behind my back, betrayed me, gave me advice that led to lose my friends and allies and because you convinced Jon that I would kill his family so that he would kill me.”

“Well it certainly sounds like I am a monster if you put it like that.” A bit of his humor had found its way to the table, but Dany knew it was more of a shield he liked to use whenever he felt trapped.

“I don’t care for your words to be quite honest. I want to get this over with.”

“Why do you want to kill king Bran?” Samwell asked shyly, eyes set on Jon.

“For someone who reads a lot, you are pretty stupid,” Arya said calmly. “Have you never asked yourself why Bran never warned any of us about Cercei’s betrayal? Euron’s fleet waiting to shoot down Daenerys’ dragon? Her burning down the city?”

Lost for words he looked down to his hands again. Jon grew restless next to the chair she was sitting in, his hand nervously playing with Longclaws hilt.

“He never said anything so that Daenerys would lose everything and, in the process, destroy Cercei, paving the way for him to become king of the seven kingdoms. The three-eyed raven in the most powerful position” Arya explained.

Bran did not say anything. Maybe he knew that his time had come, maybe he did not care at all. With Kinvara in the room, his powers were weaker, but not gone. She had warned them that he might try to warg into his ravens or something else, but Kinvara had promised that she should be able to restrain it long enough for them to kill him. Dany did not feel like wasting any more time.

“Alright. Let’s go,” Dany said while standing up.

 

 

~~

 

 

Arya pushed Bran; the dagger still pressed to his throat to keep the pressure for the others to do what they were told. Brienne walked in front of Jon, who had taken her sword. Kinvara had a hand placed on Bran’s shoulder, whispering to herself. Together they walked back into the throne room, where Drogon was waiting. The sun was slowly rising, basking the destroyed throne room in a peaceful light. While they had been in the other room, some guards must have tried to attack Drogon, as the floor was covered in a layer of ash.

Her son greeted her with a purr as she walked over to his head and gently put her hand onto his hot scales.

When she turned around, everyone was across from her, Brienne, Samwell and Tyrion looking at Drogon as if he was death personified. They were all wrong, she thought. Tyrion had once been someone her sons had trusted, someone who had been fascinated by them. But now, he was no friend of Drogon anymore and he knew that.

“This is the last chance. Lady Brienne, Samwell, do you want to help us build a better world or do you wish to die?” she asked gently.

Samwell did not think long. “I want to help build a better world” he said, looking at Jon, who nodded.

Brienne thought for a long time before kneeling in front of Bran. “Your Grace I swore an oath to protect you. I could not keep that promise. Let me die with you instead.”

Bran looked down at her. “That would be of no use. Live.”

Confusion danced across her face but she slowly rose, giving him a nod and giving Arya a look.

Jon pulled Brienne and Samwell to the side so that Arya could push Bran closer to Daenerys. Kinvara stayed next to Bran, her hand still connected to his body. She had her eyes closed and was still whispering her prayers, a deep line between her eyebrows. Arya nodded at Dany and let go of Bran, now sternly grabbing Tyrion by the arm and guiding him to stand next to Bran before walking to the side where Jon, Brienne and Samwell stood. He looked like a man ready to die, Dany thought as she looked down at him. A small man with a big shadow, that was for sure.

“I heard you had a daughter,” he said faintly enough so Arya and Jon could not hear it. “Do you think she will be proud of a mother who burnt the king of the seven kingdoms alive?”

Anger washed over her, laced with pity. He must feel exorbitantly weak if he thought of using her daughter against her.   
“Don’t dare to talk about my daughter” she hissed. “And I am not burning the king of the seven kingdoms. I am burning the Three-eyed raven.”

“Ah,” he huffed. “But the Three-eyed raven is the king of the seven kingdoms.”

“Tyrion, I once thought you were the smartest man alive. I cannot believe you of all people were not able to understand.”  
“I understand that he was the best thing after you went down the path you did!” he said through his teeth, anger in his voice.   
“And why did I? Why did I go down that path? It could have all been easily prevented if Bran had warned any of us. But he did not do th-“

A scream ripped through the air and Dany watched as Kinvara fell to the ground, her hands pressed down on her head. Before she could even move a muscle, Arya was back behind Bran, dagger in hand but as soon as she touched him, she also moved towards the ground, hissing and pressing her hand to her forehead. She heard Jon scream something and looked to Bran to see his eyes completely drowned in a white fog. He was warging. Even though she had never seen anyone do it, she knew that it had to be the case. Kinvara stood up slowly, her eyes weirdly empty, the same fog in them before returning to her own eyes. But it was not her, Dany knew. Jon ran to Dany’s side and they watched as Arya slowly got up, painful look on her face.

“You think you can kill me?” Kinvara asked grimly. “I can not be killed.”

Arya sunk the dagger into Bran’s heart, tears streaming down her face as she did it. Nothing happened. His eyes closed and he died, but the smirk on Kinvara’s face did not fade.   
“You cannot kill me. I only need a body. I can transfer myself into anyone I like.”

Dany swallowed harshly and remembered the words of the heart tree. Only magic can kill magic. And the Three-eyed raven was as magical as it got. She knew she had to act fast, as he could warg someone she loved, knowing that Daenerys would never be able to kill them. She gave Jon a look and he understood immediately, maybe having thought about the same.   
“So?” Dany asked, trying to keep the three-eyed raven’s attention on her while Jon slowly walked over to Arya. “Why do you even exist?”

Kinvara shrugged. “It’s a long tale, Mother of Dragons. I do not believe that you intend to listen to it fully.”

“Why did you not warn me about Cercei’s plans or about Euron’s fleet?” Dany asked, this time with honest curiosity. She needed answers. “Why was it so important for me to lose everything and everyone?”

“It made it easier for me. Your armies fought the war, your people died, and you fought and won against Cercei. You paved the way for me. I might need to thank you for that, actually.” She was glad to hear it, and glad that Tyrion was here to hear it. She glanced over at him to find him lost in thoughts, clearly thinking about the words he had just heard. Dany also saw that Jon had reached Arya. Kinvara stood by herself, a bit to the side from the others, right in front of Daenerys. She knew that there would only be one way to do it and she sent out thoughts to her son, who slowly arched his neck while she asked: “And now? The realm is not happier than it was before. What was your grand plan with being king?”

“Power” Kinvara hissed. And with that, the fire rained down on them.

 

It engulfed them both, Drogon unleashing the fire on them from above, the fire eating away the clothes on her body. She opened her eyes and Kinvara was right in front of her, her face so close that barely a sword could fit between them. Kinvara also opened her eyes, white pools of dripping water, her face a distorted mess. Dany was not sure if she was dreaming or dead. A hundred eyes appeared on Kinvara’s face and neck, all open and staring at Daenerys, the flames still licking away at them, both still whole.

_Why is he still alive?_

_Why is he not burning?_  
  


She reached out to touch one of the eyes but when her fingers touched it, the eye disappeared. It felt like they had been standing there for ages, all of the sudden, the heat of the flames getting uncomfortable.

_“What is happening?”_ she asked. Kinvara had no mouth to answer, only eyes. Daenerys looked down on herself and saw that she was naked, all clothes burned away. But there was a sword to her feet. It was the sword Yara had given her, Silver. She picked it up with shaking hands and gently brushed over the dragon head hilt with her thumb, wondering why it wasn’t melting. The heat was unbearable, even for her. She grabbed the hilt and looked to Kinvara, just a shell, covered in eyes. Kinvara would have wanted to die if it meant defeating the enemy, she was sure of it.

_“Do it, Daenerys”_ a voice whispered.

Dany turned around and saw nothing but flames. Maybe she was truly dead. It did not matter. She grabbed the sword and before she knew it, she had thrusted it into Kinvara’s body. The blood gushed out of the wound as she drew the sword out of the collapsing body. The fire met the blood halfway, sizzling smoke rising into the air.

 

_Fire and Blood_ , she thought.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end, my friends. Only the epilogue yet to come. Thank you so much for your kind words and your wonderful feedback. I really enjoyed this fanfic and Im already thinking about some more to write. I would love to hear your thoughts and maybe even ideas for some more fanfics. 
> 
> Love and appreciation, Yveskleinblue <3


	25. Epilog

**Lyanna**

 

 

She was high above the few clouds that were present that day, the wind caressing her face, silver curls dancing. Missandei had taken up speed, feeling the presence of her old friends. The sound of the wings was like a sweet melody in Lyanna’s ears and she smiled widely when she heard roars in the distance. Missandei roared in response, shaking her head in anticipation. Suddenly Drogon appeared over them, completely clouding over the sun. Every time she saw him, she was in awe anew. He was bigger than the black dread had been, the biggest dragon to have ever lived. Then, a sweet purr and her father’s dragon, Aemon, appeared right next to her. She laughed out loud as Missandei flew closer to Aemon to playfully nudge him mid-flight. The dragons were about to engage in a playful fight when Drogon interjected with a growl. Lyanna chuckled to herself, in awe at how much Drogon had grown to be a bit of a grandmother. The dragons slowly dove to the ground close to the cliffs of the isle of Dragons, her parents’ home. Missandei and Aemon landed gently on Drogon’s sleeping grounds, which was a huge spot on the island bare of any trees, just lush green grass. The big black dragon stayed in the air as he would not have fit there with the other two dragons. After having gotten off Missandei, she put her forehead against the hot scales of her dragon. “Go and have fun with your brothers. I’ll go and visit mother.”

Lyanna walked along the cliff until she saw the big beautiful stone building a bit in the distance on a hill, surrounded by beautiful flowers and lemon trees. As she got closer, the scent of lemons mixed with sea salt and flowers made her smile widely. The fountain in front of the house brought back memories of when they had started building the house. She had only been ten then, a small girl and she had wished for nothing more than a fountain. Lyanna had been so happy when her mother had granted the wish and had spent many hot days jumping around in the water.

Now she was a grown woman, but she still liked to put her feet into the cold water whenever she was here to visit. She walked to the red door and knocked twice before it being opened.

“Princess!” Grey Worm laughed and hugged her tightly, Lyanna smiling widely. She had been gone for almost half a year and had missed him dearly. He had always been like a brother to her, sometimes a mentor, sometimes a teacher, but always a friend.

“I missed you,” she said. “How have you been?”

“Good. I have been planting more lemon trees.”

He laughed and walked beside her as they made their way through the house. It smelled wonderful, a hint of lavender and lemons in the air and always a bit of sea salt. She knew exactly where her parents were, walking through the big room with the fireplace that had almost never been used. It was filled with the most comfortable seats, pillows to drown in. A big chandelier was hanging from the ceiling, which was high up and made out of pieces of different colored glass, coming together in a beautiful picture of a dragon.

“More?! Does mother plan to sell lemons now that she is bored?”

Grey Worm shrugged and smiled. “There can never be enough lemon trees apparently.”

“Lyanna!” a familiar voice said behind her. Lyanna turned around to find Arya leaning against a pillar.

She laughed and hugged her aunt, whom she had not seen in almost two years. After the liberation of Essos had been completed, Arya had gone back and forth between Yunkai and Meereen to help keep the peace with a portion of the Unsullied. She never stayed in one place for long, but whenever she had time, she visited Daenerys and Jon.

“Arya, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I have been busy. But when your mother let me know that you would be visiting, I came by. It has been too long” she said as she gently placed a kiss on Lyanna’s cheek. She nodded over to the balcony.

They reached the huge open doors that led to the big balcony, which was built over the cliff of the island. She stood there, in the doorway for a moment, just taking in the view of her parents. There they sat, backs to her, overlooking the sea. The sun was setting in the distance, the sky the color of sweetness. Her mothers long silver hair was braided into a bun, held there by her favorite dragon pin, while her fathers’ curls hung loose, now almost completely grey, making him look like a true Targaryen. She remembered the day her mother had found the first grey hair on his head and how preciously excited they had been at the thought of him having the same hair color as her.

“Mother, father” she said gently. They turned around and her mother gasped happily.

“Lyanna!” They both stood up and embraced her in warm hugs. Lyanna felt like crying. The time apart had made her miss them dearly, but now she was home for a time. Her mother gently placed a hand on her cheek. Her mother had always been the most beautiful person she had ever known, and she still was. Ageing had made her more beautiful even, Lyanna thought.

They sat down together, her mother holding her hand gently.

“How are things in King’s Landing?” she asked curiously.

Her father rolled his eyes in amusement. “Love, why don’t you let our daughter be just for a minute before asking her about that?” he looked at Lyanna then, a playful smile on his lips. “Your mother was not made for retirement. She has been talking about joining you on your next trip there. I told her that she can barely get on Drogon anymore.”

Her mother gasped jokingly. “Love!”

Lyanna chuckled. “King’s Landing is still the same old city. It doesn’t stink as much anymore, after the new sewer system has been completed. Took long enough. The North has elected the new leader and the new leader of the free folk was also there while I visited.”

Jon perked up. “Who is it?”

“Tormund’s son. He said his father is still talking about you often. Maybe you should visit him and Brienne.”

“I still cannot believe that Brienne actually fell for the fool after years of him trying,” Arya chuckled. Daenerys and Jon laughed at that, her mother more than her father.

“I think my time of flying over the narrow sea has come to an end. I have troubles getting out of bed in the morning. But I will write him, tomorrow,” he said with happy eyes.

Ithi, one of the Dothraki handmaidens that had been in the family since Lyanna was only a young girl, came out and brought them wine and fruits. She welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek and went about her own way. Lyanna took a sip of the wine and leaned back.

“Are your husband and our grandchildren on their way here as well?” Her mother asked with sparkling eyes.

Lyanna remembered the day she had given birth to the twins, right here in this house, almost fifteen years ago. Her mother had held her hand then, whispered words of encouragement and had cried when she had held her grandchildren in her arms for the first time. Her mother had told her once that she had thought she would be the end of house Targaryen, that her death would mean the death of the history of their ancestors. When Daenerys had held her grandchildren in her arms, she had wept like a child, a grown woman who had liberated the whole world in a storm, _Aegon reborn_ as people called her, wept at the realization that her blood would be continued. Daenerys had helped Lyanna parent the children, as Lyanna had insisted that they should grow up on the island until they were old enough to ride their dragons which had hatched right after they had been born. There were five living dragons in the world right now, and more were yet to come, Lyanna was sure of it.

“They should be here soon. Qozo and them have left King’s Landing a fortnight before I did, as we got word that there were a few problems in Meereen. Have you two gotten word about that?”

Jon nodded with a heavy sigh. “Yes, and your mother wanted to go as well and help, but your husband and Rhaella came by and told us not to worry about it and that they had dealt with it. Apparently the group that tried to assassinate two members of the council was swiftly eliminated by Rhaego.”

Lyanna smiled widely, proudness washing over her body. Her son had always been someone who dealt with problems head on, much like she had done all her life. Her daughter on the other hand was shyer and always tried to negotiate, even in dire situations where fire was the only solution. Her children could not be more different, but both Targaryen without a doubt.

“That seems about right. I still marvel at the bravery of some people to think that they can do such things when they are five dragons roaming the skies” she said.

“There have always been stupid people,” her father huffed. “But they have been getting less now that Rhaella and Rhaego are helping with keeping the peace.”

“That group waited until I was on my way here, but they did not think of the two little dragons” Arya winked.

There was a peaceful silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts when they heard roars in the distance, sweet sounds of greetings. They all stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony when they saw the two dragons dive out of the clouds. The two dragons looked so similar, twins themselves almost, both a deep green but the difference was clear if one looked closer as her daughter’s dragon had a gold shimmer to it, while her sons had a silver one. The dragons gracefully glided over the water, the light of the sunset giving them a warm glow. Then, with a flap of their wings and an excited purr they flew skywards and over them, making them turn their heads and following them with their eyes.

“What I would give to be that young again,” her mother marveled, fire in her eyes. “I would fly Drogon all day. He rarely gets to really fly anymore. I tell him to go and travel the world, so he does not die of boredom here, but he never leaves.”

Almost no time passed before her children ran into the house, their laughter filling the air with sweetness. Rhaella was the first to join them on the balcony, her dark hair flowing down her back, a flower put behind her ear, lilac eyes sparkling. Then came Rhaego with his father. Rhaego had cut his silver hair, now only reaching his shoulders. Lyanna found he had grown quite a bit in the fortnight she had not seen him, getting closer to being a man every day. Her husband Qozo’s long black hair was put into a braid, as was common for a Dothraki.

After they had all embraced and exchanged words of love and welcoming, they all sat down on the comfortable pillows that some handmaidens had brought out.

Lyanna played with her daughters’ dark hair, braiding it gently into loose braids while her mother watched, a smile on her face. Arya, Jon and Qozo were sitting a bit to the side and talking about Meereen. Rhaego sat down next to his grandmother, a few grapes in hand.

“Can we go for a ride on Drogon later, ma?” he asked her excitedly.

Daenerys giggled, combing through his hair with her hand. “I don’t know love, I am not sure I would get off him without hurting myself.”

“We will help! We can take our time!” he assured her. “The greatest dragon rider who has ever lived surely won’t say no to ride with her grandchildren.”  He was stubborn and was used to getting what he wanted, not because everybody gave in easily but rather because he was smart enough to always know what the people around him wanted to hear.

Dany looked over to her daughter who shrugged her shoulders as if to say _“He is your grandson. Don’t be surprised at how persuasive he is.”_

“Please,” pleaded Rhaella, “We were looking forward to it all day.”

Daenerys sighed in defeat and nodded gently. “Alright. But first, let me braid your hair. Why did you cut it?” she asked Rhaego.

He shrugged. “It got too long. Father was furious when he saw that I had cut it but I like it more now. I look kind of like grandfather, don’t you think?”

He did. Rhaego had always looked a lot like Jon with his curls and dark eyes. When he had been just four, Arya had said that he looked like Jon’s twin, safe for the silver hair.

Daenerys laughed loudly. “You do, Rhaego.” She kissed him on the top of his head and started braiding, delicate fingers braiding his curls into a single small braid that she then put into a little bun which she secured to his head with the pin in her hair. Her long braid fell over her shoulder, now not being held in a bun by the silver dragon pin.

“Now you look even more like him!” she marveled.

Qozo came over to them, a funny look in his eyes when he saw his son. He sat down next to Lyanna and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“He cut it a few days ago. Apparently he does not intent to follow the Dothraki tradition” he said in defeat, a bit of a smirk coloring the serious words.

“But I want to!” Rhaella said. She took the long braid into her hands and showed it to her father who looked at it proudly.   
“And what a beautiful braid! A beautiful braid for the most beautiful girl.”

 

As her children took Arya by her hands to guide her outside to their dragons, Jon and Qozo had decided to go inside to have a more private conversation with Grey Worm about the situation in the free cities. Lyanna sat across from her mother, who was deep in thought.

“How are you feeling, mother?” she asked.

Dany turned her head to her, content painted across her face. “I haven’t been happier. You know, there was a time where I thought sadness and grief was all I would ever know. And here we are,” she said while she spread her arms. “We are all alive, the world is liberated, my family hasn’t seen its end.”

“And all thanks to you,” Lyanna said proudly. “Without you, Essos would have never known freedom.”

“Love, there were so many people involved in it. Not just me, you know that. It was hard work; it took many years.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But you were the one who wanted to make the world a better place. And you did. Our house would have ended, slavery would still be ruling Essos, the wheel would still be intact. I marvel everyday about how lucky I am to call you my mother.”

Her mother put down the glass of wine on the table and looked to the sky, smiling widely. The Mother of Dragons, Lyanna thought. _Mother to us all_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really wanted a Lyanna POV chapter so here it is. I really put so much energy and emotions into this fic after the horrible last season but i am SO glad i did it. Hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for reading and commenting. It really makes my day whenever i read a lovely comment from one of you guys. <3


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